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OF 1897. 

Price 3/6 per vol. 

THE THEATRICAL WORLD OF 1893, with an Epistle 
Dedicatory to Mr. ROBERT W. LOWE. By WILLIAM 

ARCHER. W T ith an Introduction by GEORGE BERNARD 
SHAW, and a Synopsis of Playbills of the Year by HENRY 

ARCHER. W T ith a Prefatory Letter by ARTHUR W. 
PINERO, and a Synopsis of Playbills of the Year by 

THE THEATRICAL WORLD OF 1896, with an Intro- 
duction "On the Need for an Endowed Theatre." By 
WILLIAM ARCHER. And a Synopsis of Playbills of the 

The above Vols. contain complete Indices of the Plays, 
Authors, Actors, Actresses, Afanagers, Critics, etc., 
referred to. 


OF 1897 














AUTHOR'S NOTE - - - xxvii 


TREE INN" - i 











CHELSEA " - 50 




" MARIANA " - - - - - 57 




















LET" - .... 128 












"ALL ALIVE, On!" 185 










KEY " - 218 







SUNKENK GLOCKE" - - - 241 


"HAMLET" 249 






44 FRANCILLON " - - - 270 





" THE LIARS " " OH ! SUSANNAH ! " 275 







" THE TEMPEST " - ... 309 





"A MAN'S SHADOW" - 3 2 7 






CLOTHING " - - 347 



HIBBERT - - 379 




IF Mr. Archer had searched the world he could 
hardly have found one less qualified than Tarn 
to write a preface to this volume. My position 
as a playwright scarcely entitles me to link my 
name with his in relation to dramatic art ; and 
being by use and wont a writer for the stage, an 
ordinary pen is in my hand an unfamiliar and 
dangerous weapon, which, if by good luck it 
does no harm to others, may very well recoil 
upon myself. Another of my disqualifications 
is the fact that my acquaintance with these 
particular essays is limited to such of them as 
have been forwarded to me by the interesting, 
the irritating, the amusing, the depressing, the 
indispensable Romeike. Under these circum- 
stances, why have I taken up my pen ? The 
answer is simple. Mr. Archer has asked me to 
do so. 

Twenty years drop from my back, and I am 
seated in a humble compartment on the London, 


Chatham, and Dover Railway. Opposite to me 
is a young Scotchman Scotsman he calls 
himself;* but I, possessing no literary style, 
call him a Scotchman ; because, though it may 
be very bad Scots, it is excellent English. We 
fall into conversation. We discover that we are 
both profoundly interested in plays and players. 
We discuss them eagerly ; and I find myself, 
almost for the first time in my life, in agreement 
with one of my fellow-creatures. My com- 
panion was not then Mr. Archer, the eminent 
critic, or I should not have presumed to address 
him ; he was only a young Mr. Archer, a law- 
student, with a portrait of one Henrik Ibsen 
hanging over his bedroom mantel-piece. How 
we analysed those plays ! How we dissected 
those players ! How we discussed that Ibsen ! 
And how we agreed ! Our unanimity was 
wonderful. Well, twenty years have passed, 
and Mr. Archer is still an enthusiast. He has 
not only been able to maintain his interest in 
the theatre, but he has regarded it from new 
points of view. I stand where I stood a less 
or more sympathetic spectator of a drama in 

* No, never! Scotsman, except as the name of a newspaper, 
I take to be a mere affectation. W, A. 


travail, not knowing what it may bring forth. 
But we agreed once ; and those were pleasant 
days. That is why Mr. Archer has invited me 
to write this preface, and that is why I write it. 

When mortals disagree, such is the perversity 
of human nature that they seek to exaggerate 
their differences, and persist in regarding the 
points at which they diverge rather than those 
where they approach. During the year that is 
passing, Mr. Archer (so Mr. Romeike informs 
me) has returned to the attack upon Scribe 
(page 192), and wow suo^ does me the honour 
to associate my name with that of the French 
playwright. Great as my admiration is for the 
unapproached technique of Scribe, I have never 
cited any play of his as a masterpiece, nor have 
I ever held him up as a model in any other 
particular than the exquisite symmetry of his 
construction. I am willing to admit that in 
many other respects he is lacking. To bracket 
me with Scribe is to obscure the issue. My 
contention has ever been, that form is one of 
the most beautiful manifestations of art. I 
regard as a fallacy the proposition put by Mr. 
Archer into the mouth of a sort of Devil's 
advocate, that " Heaven is the arch-dramatist." 


I deny that heaven is a dramatist. I contend 
that to put into dramatic form and shapeliness 
the confused tangle which we find in life is the 
very art and business of the dramatic author. 
Mr. Archer admits that there are no absolute 
truths in aesthetics ; I have admitted that he 
has hold of half a truth ; is he quite certain that 
I have not hold of another half? He has gone 
so far as to concede (page 222) " that the well- 
made play has its merits and is an art-form 
deserving of respect." This comforts me. And 
when he intimates (page 203) that deliberate 
formlessness and artful inartificiality may be 
pushed to extremes, I feel that he is on the 
high road to the discovery that they may be as 
puerile and irritating as the crudest machinery. 
The real question is not, and never was, " Has 
Eugene Scribe spoken the last word of theatrical 
technique? " That last word will never be spoken 
on this earth. The real question is : Is form an 
element of the highest art? 

But what is the practical use of the discus- 
sion ? While Mr. Archer is pioneering with 
laborious axe a hundred miles ahead of Eugene 
Scribe, the dear old simple-minded English 
play-going public is gathering buttercups and 


daisies a hundred miles behind him. We will 
dismiss Shakespeare ; he is the dramatic Bible ; 
the touring manager puts him up on a Saturday 
night, and proudly and truthfully declares that 
he has drawn the biggest house of the week ; 
but it has been said, "an actor cannot live by 
Shakespeare alone." We will leave Sir Henry 
Irving out of the question. He has become one 
of our national institutions. His intense indi- 
viduality, assisted by an unrivalled diplomacy 
and a marvellous faculty of forgiveness, has 
impressed itself upon a public which, however 
flippant and frivolous, is always obedient to its 
master. But genius is ever a thing apart. In 
what has the production of The Second Mrs. 
Tanqueray, The Notorious Mrs. Ebbsrnith, The 
Benefit of the Doubt, and the tremendous for- 
ward movement of psychology resulted ? In 
the popular triumph of The Prisoner of Zenda, 
Under the Red Robe, Trilby, and The Little 
Minister. I have nothing that is not good to 
say of these entertainments, and I rejoice that 
an estranged audience has returned with gusto 
to the theatre ; but do these financial pheno- 
mena represent an advance in popular taste, do 
they indicate a raising of the theatrical standard, 


since the days when Sir Squire was Mr. Ban- 
croft, and Mr. Hare and Mr. and Mrs. Kendal 
played Sardou at the St. James's ? Only Mr. 
Wyndham remains at his old post. Sir Squire 
and Lady Bancroft have retired from manage- 
ment ; Mr. Hare has seen fit to resign the 
Garrick Theatre; and Mr. and Mrs. Kendal have 
long been exiles from London. Dost like the 
picture? The theatrical situation will never be 
realised until the fact is admitted that the 
sober-minded, thoughtful mass of the English 
public are not play-goers. Only a small 
minority will take their drama seriously. 

Can it be marvelled that an insignificant 
dramatic author, who long ago abandoned all 
idea of setting this naughty world to rights, 
is unable to regard his vocation seriously? If 
Mr. Romeike has not misled me, Mr. Archer 
has publicly and very kindly regretted that 
I devote so much attention to adaptation. 
Indeed, of recent months, my adaptations 
appear to have given a considerable number 
of worthy persons grounds for great uneasiness. 
If the matter is of any public interest, I am 
quite willing to explain that I am in much the 
same position as the proverbial Mr. Hobson. 


The majority of the newspapers in London, 
at any rate cannot honestly applaud my 
original work ; and the public will not take the 
trouble to judge whether the newspapers are 
right. Its attitude I imagine to be this and 
a very sensible attitude it is : This man what's 
his name ? Grumby is a toss-up ; The Geisha 
is a certainty ; let's go to The Geisha. I have 
been original more often than is remembered ; 
but I am not sufficiently conceited to foist on 
play-goers an article which they do not require, 
simply because it is my own manufacture. 
Adaptation is an art in its way, and it has 
even some compensations. The adaptor has 
the opportunity of selecting his material from 
well-seasoned timber. He need only pick the 
best of a bundle. What does it matter to art 
who writes the play? One man, or two, or 
twenty? The play's the thing. If an author 
is original because he has something original 
and good to say, and there is an audience 
which wishes to hear him, he is right to be 
* original ; but if he is original merely for the 
sake of originality, he is a coxcomb. Art is 
cosmopolitan, and one good adaptation is worth 
a score of indifferent originals. Moreover, as 



I have contended of old time, an author who 
writes one original play and one adaptation 
is just as much an original author as he who 
writes one original play and adapts nothing. 
Would not thousands of play-goers have been 
deprived of the innocent amusement which 
Mr. Hare and Mr. Groves and Miss Kate 
Rorke have afforded them in A Pair of 
Spectacles, if I had not taken the original from 
the shelf where it had lain for thirty years 
and brushed the dust from its leaves ? Labiche 
himself would have rejoiced over the success 
of his pet collaboration ; and could he over- 
hear the rude ejaculations of a gesticulating 
French journalist, " English thief, you have 
robbed the fatherless ! ** would murmur, with 
a comedy twinkle of his eye, " Sarcey, I left 
no children." 

There is a practical side to art which in public 
discussion is ignored, but which none the less 
helps to determine men's .fortunes and reputa- 
tions. The actual practice of any profession or 
calling has a wonderful knack of upsetting the 
theories and aspirations of the study, the dis- 
cussion forum and the critical bench. The stage 
has a voracious appetite, and somehow it must 


be catered for. When one of the most uncom- 
promising and enthusiastic of realists lays down 
his critical pen and accepts a commission, he 
adapts The Prisoner of Zenda. Another, My 
Friend the Prince. If I am not mistaken, Mr. 
Archer's own single contribution to the original 
acted drama was of a most blood-curdling 
description. There's a divinity that shapes our 
ends, in the theatre as elsewhere. It has 
happened to me more than once that a friend 
has descended upon me like a bolt from the 
blue; "I must have something in a fortnight, 
and I must have a success. Can you help me ? " 
One may have a dozen original ideas in one's 
mind, but they may not fit the occasion ; and in 
any case one can't do much with an original 
idea in a fortnight. Adaptation was the only 
resource. I am happy to say that in every such 
case the desired result was achieved ; but it is by 
one's successes that one is labelled, and again I 
was " only a translator." In a workaday world 
these rubs are inevitable. 

Since I have never been able to accept my 
own calling seriously, I cannot be surprised that 
the majority of the critics find themselves in a 
similar case. If I discuss their function as 


though it were the mere apportionment of praise 
and blame, it is not that I ignore its higher 
aspects, its duties towards the public, and the 
right of criticism to be considered a science 
affording scope for the subtlest qualities of 
the human intellect a right which Mr. 
Archer's essays have attested again and again 
but because the everyday theatrical " notice " 
has not always reached the preliminary stage 
of cultivating the judicial spirit; because the 
dispensation of equal justice to all men and 
to all women is so vastly more important than 
the most brilliant analysis; and because I think 
the concrete theatre suffers from being dis- 
cussed in the abstract on too high a platform. 
Professional criticism will always exist, and must 
be accepted as an unalterable fact; but it would 
be of absorbing interest if Mr. Archer, who does 
take his vocation seriously, would devote one of 
his luminous chapters to the consideration of its 
net practical effect upon dramatic art. On the 
whole, is it gain or is it loss ? No doubt, in a 
commercial sense, the theatre gains by the 
publicity accorded to its doings; even unfavour- 
able comment serves to keep it before the public 
mind. But what is the net effect on artists and 


on art ? I should very much like to hear Mr. 
Archer's opinion. Can he resist the testimony 
of almost every author and artist in the past who 
has left his views on record ? Is it not a chorus, 
an anthem of anathema ? I can recall only one 
instance, though no doubt there have been others, 
in which a writer, or actor, or actress, has left 
any memorial of indebtedness to professional 
criticism. Coming to our own time, Mrs. 
Kendal's opinion is well known. Mr. W. S. Gilbert 
has shaken the dust from his feet and departed. 
Miss Winifred Emery, apparently as great a 
favourite with the critics as with the public, 
recently remarked to an interviewer that the 
press had long ago crushed all her ambition. I 
know a score of such cases, but I must not name 
them. It has been said, " Oh, yes ! artists are 
a conceited, sensitive set, who will swallow 
butter by the pound, and resent the most 
commonplace correction." But is this a suffi- 
cient explanation ? After making due allowance 
for human nature and the artistic temperament, 
it is a superficial cynicism to suppose that every 
artist's views on a subject which equally con- 
cerns his fellow-artists and his art itself are 

absolutely dominated by his personal vanity 



and limited by his individual experiences. The 
frequent lament, that those who have been most 
favoured are often the most dissatisfied, seems 
to point to something wider and deeper than 
mere egoism. Surely this is a most interesting 
and important matter, which deserves a more 
philosophical consideration than it has received. 
Even assuming that there is nothing in it but 
vanity and vexation of spirit, is it not unfortunate 
for art that such wide-spread dissatisfaction 
should exist? In artistic matters the personal 
equation counts for a great deal; and a para- 
graph of undue severity, or an injurious mis- 
statement of fact, is not balanced by a column 
of fulsome adulation. Above all, no eulogy, 
however lavish, in the day of prosperity, can 
compensate for neglect or contumely in the day 
of small things. The diplomatist, the man of 
tact and of the world, affects to have forgotten 
these things; but I have heard diplomatists^ 
when for a moment they have laid aside their 
diplomacy, and I have found them even more 
bitter than the rest. I have known that bitter- 
ness to affect the methods of an artist, the 
bearing, even the voice, and permanently to 
deteriorate his style. 


We can all of us remember the time when 
no epithet was too contemptuous to be hurled 
at the acting of Sir Henry Irving. Mr. Gilbert 
was recently taken severely to task for saying 
that criticism had a tendency to consider the 
author rather than his work, a statement which 
is absolutely true, and that the writer of an 
unsuccessful play was treated as though he were 
a malefactor. I can recall the year it was the 
year of Low Water when Mr. Pinero was 
almost called a malefactor. A long time ago, a 
leading theatrical journal devoted two whole 
pages to a scathing review of some published 
plays by a certain Mr. Henry Arthur Jones, 
citing them as samples of the hopeless trash 
with which managers were pestered. And even 
to this day the name of the greatest English- 
speaking actress of our time is seldom mentioned 
without a reminder that she is past forty years 
of age as though it were disgrace to have 
adorned so long the boards which her footsteps 
honour, and to be as pure and gracious an artist 
when over forty as when under twenty. 

The only form of review which appears to me 
to be wholly admirable and wholly beneficial to 
art, to the criticised, and to the critic himself, is 


that which has been introduced by Mr. T. P. 
O'Connor in the columns of The Weekly Sun, 
and I consider that for so happy an inspiration 
literature owes him a debt of gratitude. Mr. 
O'Connor writes appreciations of works other, 
alas, than dramatic. If he does not like a book, 
he is silent. When a book especially impresses 
him, he endeavours not so much to criticise it 
as to convey to his readers the aim of the 
author and the measure of his accomplishment. 
Such reviewing is nothing but wholesome. 
Censure seldom served any good purpose, except 
to relieve the liver of the censor. This, I take 
it, was Mr. Pinero's meaning when he said, 
" Praise, praise, praise ! " I am fully conscious, 
and so no doubt is Mr. Pinero, that the press 
errs quite as often in the direction of excessive 
laudation as in any other direction ; but this 
does not mend matters. The errors do not 
cancel one another, and the resultant error is 

Be criticism good or evil, is there a more 
melancholy spectacle under the sun than the 
theatrical advertisements in the columns of the 
daily newspapers ? This theatrical calling, which 
is unduly discouraged by censure, no sooner 


receives a word of commendation than it rushes 
to the advertisement agent to have the tooth- 
some adjectives reprinted in small type. I 
myself object to be lectured by a man in a 
mask, or by one to whom I am not permitted 
to reply; and I have never been able to appre- 
ciate the manliness of submitting to an un- 
provoked or unfair attack ; but the moment 
we quote the critic's praise we must accept his 
censure, just or not. Here is where the theatre 
commits its fatal indiscretion. It coquets with 
the press. Instead of saying, "Go your way, 
and I'll go mine; we will be friends, if you 
like, but we can never be anything more," it 
makes eyes, like a woman, and ultimately it 
surrenders itself. 

Nobody is more sensible than I am of the 
delicacy, the difficulty ay, the impossibility 
of the critic's position. My dislike to him is 
purely professional ; as a human being he has 
my sincere sympathy; though sometimes, when I 
go to the play and see the sort of entertainment 
which is too often set before him, I cannot repress 
a chuckle of satisfaction that the whirligig of 
time brings in his revenges. In any event, the 
critic has come to stay; and if occasionally he 


awards the race to the halt, the battle to the 
weak, the riches to the variety-artist, and the 
favour to his friends, is he not sometimes a 
pillar of strength himself and a cause of strength 
in others ? Such in my judgment is the author 
of this volume, beside whose name I esteem it 
a privilege to inscribe my own ; not because he 
is endowed with exceptional insight and a re- 
markable gift of literary expression, but because 
he fears no man and he favours no man; when 
he praises, he praises with sincerity ; when he 
uses the scalpel, he guides it with precision; 
and when he wields the sword, it is the sword 


December 1897. 


I BEG once more to thank the Trustees under the will 
of Mr. Edmund Yates for sanctioning this reprint of 
my criticisms in the World; and I gratefully acknow- 
ledge the courtesy with which the Editors of the 
Daily Chronicle ', the Westminster Gazette, and St. 
Paul's have permitted me to include one or two 
articles which appeared in their columns. My friend, 
Mr. Sydney Grundy, has done me the honour of 
contributing an Introduction which must greatly 
enhance the interest of the volume; and my friend, 
Mr. H. G. Hibbert, continues that Synopsis of 
Playbills which will give a documentary value to 
these year-books when any critical vitality they may 
possess is long since dwindled and forspent. By 
way of rounding off the little group of five volumes, 
I have compiled an " Epilogue Statistical," in which 
the reader, if he care to turn to it, may, I hope, find 
matter of some novelty and significance. 



OK 1896." 

Last Performance., 

Tm. (licisHA ... Still running. 

A Nicur OUT October 9. 


Revived October 4 -December 18. 

UxufcR IHK RKD ROHK ... June 2. 

Tin; CIRCUS GIRI, Still running. 

S \\IKI NANCY May 8. 

RH HAKI> III February 27 

April 6. 


I'm; SK;\ o|. THK CKOSS February 3 

Revived August 21 October 23. 







6th January. 

THERE was one very funny scene at the Avenue 
Theatre on Saturday evening, but it occurred, un- 
fortunately, after the play was over. It was enacted 
in dumb show, but with infinite spirit and expressive- 
ness. The performers were the two authors of A 
Man about Town,* who, coming forward in response 
to the applause of the stalls and the groans of the 
gallery, shook each other warmly by the hand, 
expressed the liveliest mutual admiration, and, as 
the curtain fell, fronted the angry gods in attitudes of 
Ajax-like defiance. It was a thrilling spectacle, the 
like of which has not been witnessed since Miss Olga 
* January 2 23. 


Nethersole and Mr. Henry Hamilton, before the 
curtain at the Gaiety, effusively congratulated each 
other on the fiasco of Carmen. While I applaud 
the gallantry which holds up its head against mis- 
fortune, I doubt the wisdom of the Ajax attitude. 
When I have a play damned, I shall bow and smile 
to my applauding friends, and shall loftily ignore the 
"organised opposition" of my enemies. Above all, 
I shall not let the manager come on and say, " Ladies 
and gentlemen, what is your verdict ?" or "Do you 
like the play?" or "What message shall I send to 
the author?" That is the foolishest policy; it 
invites execration, and dots the "i" of failure. I 
have known several disasters that might quite well 
have passed as successes if the manager could only 
have been pinioned and gagged as the curtain fell. 
There is not the least use in defying or challenging 
an audience in its inarticulate way, it will always 
have the last word. And there is always enough 
applause to cover a graceful retreat. At the Avenue, 
for instance, the applause was distinctly louder than 
the groans, to which the authors might perfectly well 
have turned a deaf ear. The British dramatist, like 
the British soldier, should never know when he is 
beaten or at least he should never " let on " that he 

To tell the truth, I cannot quite make out what 
so enraged the gallery against A Man about Town. 


Without affecting any personal enthusiasm for it, I 
must say that I have seen duller and more offensive 
productions rapturously applauded. The authors 
who choose, for some inscrutable reason, to make 
themselves ridiculous by styling themselves "Huan 
Mee" have perhaps acted unwisely in attempting 
to introduce plot into a musical farce. It is true 
they very soon drop it, and the piece becomes as 
incoherent as heart can desire; but it may be that 
the very fact of its beginning coherently made the 
public recognise and resent its lapse into incon- 
sequence. In the initial idea of the " playwright in 
spite of himself" there are the makings of a tolerable 
farce of intrigue. To provide an excuse for club- 
haunting and late hours, a man pretends to his wife 
that he has written an opera. As a matter of fact, he 
has only translated it, and nothing is further from his 
thoughts than any effort to get it produced. Imagine, 
then, his consternation when his wife, without his 
knowledge, secures its acceptance ; and the imbroglio 
is further complicated by the fact that the manager 
believes the play to be written by the wife, not the 
husband, and has accepted it because of his lively 
admiration, not for the play, but for the lady. From 
these elements it would be easy to work up a rattling 
farce ; indeed, I should not be surprised to learn that 
some French or German playwright has already done 
so. The authors of A Man about Toivn, instead of 


ingeniously developing their intrigue, obscure it by all 
sorts of additional extravagances, and then let it slip 
through their fingers altogether. They make a con- 
vulsive attempt, indeed, within ten minutes of the 
end, to gather up the threads again ; but by that time 
we have forgotten all about them. Thus, if I read 
the case aright, they fall between the two stools of 
plot and no plot of farce and " musical comedy." 
I wish I could attribute the wrath of the gallery to 
the utter vulgarity and frivolousness to use a con- 
venient euphemism of the whole entertainment; but, 
remembering what is applauded at other theatres, I 
cannot take so optimistic a view. The lyrics are 
somewhat laboured but not quite pointless, and the 
score, by Mr. Alfred Carpenter, though dull enough 
as a whole, contains some taking jingles. Mr. 
Lonnen plays the playwright-in-spite-of-himself with 
that conscientious hard-working whimsicality which is 
the note of his manner. Some people find it oppres- 
sive ; I do not. I can always laugh at Mr. Lonnen, 
and I did even on Saturday night. On the othei" 
hand, I cannot relish the rigid dancing of Miss Alice 
Lethbridge, who played the wife. It was immensely 
popular with the audience, however. Miss May 
Edouin, who appeared as "an up-to-date parlour- 
maid," has quicksilver in her veins, and makes up in 
vivacity what she lacks in grace. Miss Alma Stanley, 
regal as ever, was also amusing in her way, and Mr. 

" BETSY." 5 

Sydney Howard made a clever caricature of the 
French librettist whose work the " man about town " 
has stolen. 

With a devotion to principle which one cannot but 
admire, Mr. Charles Wyndham describes Betsy* as 
"the Celebrated Comedy by F. C Burnand." It 
would be unjust, in his opinion, to mention the 
French authors ; and really, in this case, there is 
something to be said for that view. Betsy is one of 
those adaptations, much rarer nowadays than they 
were fifteen years ago, in which the meaning is 
eliminated with the "immorality," and the result 
is a violent hurly-burly about nothing at all. There 
is spirit, however, in this hurly-burly, and, being 
capitally played by the new cast, it thoroughly 
amused the Criterion audience. I am quite willing 
to believe that Mr. Aubrey Boucicault was very good 
as the personage who gives the. French play its 
name, Bebe, but such characters are so repulsive to 
me that I am unable to estimate the merits of the 
actor who performs them. Miss Annie Hughes 
made an admirable Betsy, though it seemed to me 
that she and Mr. Boucicault grotesquely overdid 
the pinching and howling business of the first act, 
making it far more painful than comic. Mr. James 
Welch was extremely amusing as the accommodating 
tutor. I remember Saint-Germain in this part at 
* December 29, 1896 February 13 (afternoon). 


the Gymnase, and his performance was no better 
than Mr. Welch's. Mr. Alfred Bishop, too, was 
capital as the father of Beb'c. His various attempts 
to hit upon the right tone in addressing his son 
showed genuine comic invention. Miss Carlotta 
Addison, Mr. Barnes, Mr. Kenneth Douglas, and 
Miss Sybil Carlisle all contributed to the success of 
the revival. 

Mrs. Beringer's little dramatisation of The Holly- 
Tree Inn* which precedes Love in Idleness in the 
afternoon bill at Terry's Theatre, affords an oppor- 
tunity for two of the most delightful pieces of child- 
acting I ever saw. The story of the boy and girl who 
set off together for Gretna Green is in itself one of 
Dickens's most charming fancies, and it is rendered to 
perfection by Master Stewart Dawson and Miss Valli 
Valli. It is impossible, and if it were possible it 
would be ungracious, to say which of these little 
people is the cleverer. Neither could by any means 
be better they have been most ably trained, and 
they enter into their parts with amazing and really 
touching spirit and intelligence. Mr. George Belmore 
and Miss Kate Mills are good as Jabez Cobbs and 
his wife, and altogether the little piece is an ideal 

* December 28, 1896 (afternoon), and every Monday, Tuesday, 
Wednesday, and Thursday afternoon until week ending Jan- 
uary 30. Then every Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday to 
February 18. 


Christmas entertainment and a thing not to be missed. 
At the same time I agree with the critic who protests 
against the carrying off of Harry while Norah is 
asleep; nay, I think it grossly inconsistent with Harry's 
chivalry that he should take this base abduction so 



i $th January. 

THE new "play without words," produced on Friday 
afternoon at the Prince of Wales's, stands, in my 
opinion, somewhere between 1} Enfant Prodigue and 
La Statue du Commandeur, both of which we have 
seen on the same boards. There was a singular 
charm about L Enfant Prodigue which will not easily 
be rivalled. It dealt with one of the simple, funda- 
mental tragedies of life; a tragedy that needs no 
words ; a tragedy so inherent in the very nature of 
things, that a great psychologist, whose first aim it 
was to be understanded of the people, made it the 
subject of the most popular of his similitudes. 
Moreover, it was full of a charming humour, most 
ingeniously dramatised, and illustrated with truly 
inventive music. And, to crown all, it was very 
cleverly acted by the whole company, and quite 


perfectly by the three essential personages the 
1-ather, the Mother, and the Prodigal Son. If A 
Pierrot's Life * can be said to possess these advantages 
at all, it is certainly in a minor degree. The story 
has nothing like the typical value of its predecessor. 
Pierrot's debauchery is much more wanton and heart- 
less than the wild-oats-sowing of the Prodigal Son; 
and while no one can refuse to sympathise with a 
mother's inexhaustible tenderness for her erring child, 
the instant relenting of a woman towards a man 
who has treated her with the utmost ^brutality is a 
different and much more questionable matter. The 
fact that they are husband and wife is not essential 
to the issue. What is essential is that he steals her 
savings and elopes with another woman at the very 
moment when he has learnt that she is soon to be 
the mother of his child. To make this child the 
instrument of their reunion is to apply the good 
old "coup de 1'enfant" almost paradoxically. Per- 
haps you think I am taking Pierrot much too 
seriously, and justifying the pleasant parodist! who 
made me indite a ponderous analysis of the tragedy 
of Punch and Judy. Well, I am going to justify 
him still further, and insist that, whether we are 
conscious of it or not, we do instinctively analyse 
any situation which appeals (as this does) to our 
rudimentary sympathies, and that the greater or less 
* January 8 May 11. See Art. XII. f Mr. Max Beerbohm. 


enjoyment of an audience depends on the whole- 
heartedness or half-heartedness with which its sym- 
pathies go out to the personages. There is a term 
in mental science I am not sure that I can spell 
it, but I believe it is " ccenaesthesis " which, though 
one naturally shrinks from using it except on the 
severest provocation, would really be of great service 
to criticism if it could only get itself translated into 
a less abhorrent form. It implies, as I understand 
it, the sum of those myriad sensations which do not 
rise into consciousness, and yet are, at any given 
moment, the factors which mainly determine our 
comfort or discomfort, our well-being or ill-being. 
Especially does the individual " ccensesthesis " deter- 
mine the individual temper; and the collective 
"ccenaesthesis" of an audience determines its tem- 
perature towards a play. Ninety-nine people out of 
a hundred are absolutely unconscious of the real 
reasons why they applaud more, or less, or not at 
all, or hiss, or "boo," or throw things, or tear up 
the benches ; but in nine cases out of ten the 
mercury rises or falls in the thermometer of approval 
or disapproval in accordance with some such analysis 
as I have attempted above, instinctively performed 
either in the recesses of the brain or in that exten- 
sion of the brain which we call the nervous system. 
We critics are for ever picking at our "ccenaesthesis" 
(when we are not dogmatically asserting it), and 


generally, of course, we give a quite mistaken 
always and necessarily an imperfect account of it. 
Perhaps it is a mistaken account of mine that I am 
now giving; but as I look back upon A Pierrots 
Life, I fancy the lukewarmness of the pleasure with 
which I saw it was largely due to an (as yet un- 
reasoned) sense that the story was common rather 
than typical, and the clearly foreseen conclusion a 
piece of somewhat immoral sentimentality. 

Furthermore, the humour of the play is much less 
happy than that of L Enfant Prodigue, and much 
less ingeniously interpreted in the orchestra. There 
was only one thing that really and irresistibly 
" brought down the house," and that was Pochinet's 
miming of Lafontaine's fable of the "Two Pigeons." 
This was done with admirable cleverness by Signor 
Egidio Rossi, a born pantomimist, who, indeed, was 
very good throughout. But the best pantomimist 
cannot do more than the author has invented for 
him ; and, this one episode excepted, none of 
M. Boissier's inventions is so clever as at least half- 
a-dozen of M. Carre's in LEnfant Prodigue for 
instance, the reading of the newspaper, in which 
M. Courtes was so admirable, and the love-scene 
between the banker and Phrynette, with its delightful 
inweaving of the Wedding March. With the excep- 
tion of Signor Rossi, it did not seem to me that 
any of the performers showed a real genius for the 


art. Mdlle. Litini was graceful and expressive as 
Pierrot, Madame Germaine Ety was expressive but 
commonplace as Louisette, and M. Jacquinet, as the 
villain Julot, was energetic and comprehensible ; but 
Signer Rossi alone got hold of me, and carried me 
away. Let me add that though I cannot think that 
the enjoyment of the public was as spontaneous as 
it might have been, any lukewarmness they felt 
remained entirely in their " coenaesthesis," and did 
not rise into their consciousness. They applauded 
liberally at the ends of the acts, and would no doubt 
have sworn that they enjoyed themselves immensely. 

On the whole, I am inclined to fancy that a 
thoroughly delightful play without words is the result 
of a happy combination of circumstances that is not 
likely to occur more than once in a decade if so 
often. Unless the invention and execution are 
altogether exquisite, the silence soon becomes oppres- 
sive, and ultimately irritating. Dramatic expression 
with the chief organ of expression eliminated is at 
best a curiosity, a virtuosity, a feat. As a means of 
education in acting, I should think voiceless miming 
must be invaluable. Some practice in it would be 
of great assistance to young English actors and 
actresses. If I were director of a dramatic school, 
I should set the pupils to act Romeo and Juliet in 
dumb show; and then, to make the balance true, I 
should get them to speak the text with all the passion 


they could muster, but sitting with arms folded in 
their chairs. Under competent direction and criti- 
cism (which, needless to say, would not be mine), 
such analytic exercises would do them a world of 
good; but I do not think I should invite the public 
to be present. And yet who knows? I should not 
wonder if The School for Scandal, cleverly acted in 
dumb show, were to prove exceedingly entertaining. 

A dramatic version, by Messrs. Herbert Woodgate 
and Paul M. Berton, of Miss Corelli's romance, The 
Sorrows of Satan* was produced at the Shaftesbury 
Theatre on Saturday evening. The audience seemed 
to like it; they applauded loudly, and the applause 
had a quite genuine ring in it. I am at a loss to 
imagine what they found entertaining; but I gladly 
bear witness that, although the play is no doubt an 
outcome of the boasted reconciliation between religion 
and the stage, it is devoid of the two great attrac- 
tions of " religious drama " as hitherto exemplified 
brutality and sensuality. So far as I could hear it 
(for I was very badly placed) there seemed to be 
nothing in The Sorrows of Satan that called for any 
vehemence of protest. In a half-educated age, it is 
not at all surprising that there should be an immense 
public for pinchbeck imagination and spurious intel- 
lectuality; and in one way or another this public 
will be provided for. I am not sure, indeed, that 
* January 9 February 27. 


even puerile theology and ethics, so long as they 
are not eked out with more deleterious matter, may 
not be wholesomer dramatic fare than empty yarn- 
spinning or epileptic " musical " tomfoolery. The 
play is not even aggressively or offensively vulgar; 
or, more precisely, the vulgarity lies rather in the 
fundamental conception of life, death, and the scheme 
of things, than in 'the surface sayings and doings of 
the characters. It is simply a stupid play for stupid 
people that is the worst (and the best) that can be 
said of it. The adapters, so far as I can judge 
without having read the novel, have done their 
work judiciously enough. It appears that they have 
followed Miss Corelli very closely rather too closely, 
perhaps. I certainly had not the smallest notion of 
what the dramatic conflict was really to be, until the 
play was more than half over. About the middle of 
the third act it began to dawn on me that Lady 
Sibyl was in love with Prince Lucio, and by the end 
of the fourth act she had confessed her passion, and 
taken her quietus, so that the drama was practically 
over. An act and a half of drama to five acts of 
play does not seem a large allowance; but if the 
adapters' reverence for their author forbade them to 
depart from the lines she had laid down, I do not 
see how this proportion was to be amended. The 
mounting was lavish, and the acting, without being 
brilliant, was adequate. Mr. Lewis Waller was most 


happily chosen for the part of Prince Lucio, that 
roaring lion who goes about the world seeking whom 
he may not devour. He spoke well, as he always 
does, and there was about his whole personality 
something of that steelly glitter which one associates 
with a modern Mephistopheles. Talking of " steelly 
glitter," by-the-bye, it was rather a shock to me when 
he appeared among the icebergs of the last act in 
a cuirass of shining mail. I should not have thought 
armour a desirable costume either for " thrilling 
regions of thick-ribbed ice " or for that other element 
which we are apt to associate with " the sorrows of 
Satan." But perhaps I should apologise for alluding 
to such antiquated superstition in the presence of 
this new and improved Safety Satan, who, like the 
Swedish Lucifers of bygone years, is non-sulphureous 
" utan Svavfel och Fosfor." He deals only in the 
more refined pyrotechnics of electricity, being accom- 
panied on his path through life by irrelevant and dis- 
concerting "fuffs" of lightning. Mr. Yorke Stephens 
made as much as could be expected of the flaccid 
character of Geoffrey Tempest, but Miss Granville 
left something to be desired in the part of Lady 
Sibyl. It is a pity the management could not, or 
at any rate did not, secure Mrs. Patrick Campbell 
for this character, which would have suited her to a 




IT was quite refreshing on Thursday night to find 
good, honest, unbedizened, unbedevilled melodrama 
in the ascendant at the Olympic. For my part, I 
have a keen relish for popular drama, so long as 
it keeps to its own theatres and frankly wears its own 
colours. It is when melodrama goes a-masquerading 
in historical, philosophical, spiritual frippery, and 
imposes itself upon the intellectual incompetence of 
the half-educated masses as something new and 
noble then it is that I cannot away with it. Mere 
simple-minded vulgarity is inevitable and respectable ; 
tawdry pretentiousness is equally inevitable, it would 
appear, but no amount of press or pulpit puffery can 
induce me to respect it. 

Nothing could be more unpretending than the 
work of Messrs. F. C. Philips and Leonard Merrick. 
Their story is told in their title, The Free Pardon* 
We all know that quaint form of English law by 
which a convict who is found to be innocent receives 
a free pardon for the crime he has not committed. 
It was clear, then, from the outset, that the hero was 
not only to be wrongfully accused of the murder com- 
* January 28 February 18 (?). 


mitted by the villain, but was to be actually convicted 
and sentenced. The more usual plan is to turn the 
tables at the very trial, and simply transfer the hand- 
cuffs from the hero's wrists to the villain's; but there 
is excellent precedent, of course, for sending the hero 
to Portland, and an escape from that establishment is 
always popular. It is varied in this instance by a 
situation of some ingenuity. The innocent convict 
takes refuge in the house of a warder, whose wife 
conceals him in her room. The husband returns, 
and the feeble devices by which his wife tries to 
keep him from entering the room arouse first his 
suspicions and then his furious jealousy. Mean- 
while the hero might have made his escape; but, 
overhearing the discussion between husband and 
wife, he realises that the woman is sacrificing her 
reputation for his sake, and bursts open the door 
and gives himself up rather than suffer her to do 
so. This is, in its way, a strong effect, and it gives 
rise to an interesting question of casuistry as to what 
course the warder ought now to take. Our authors, 
however, are not in a moment's doubt on the point 
the warder throws duty to the dogs and helps the 
fugitive to escape. Then arises a further question : 
Is it entirely heroic on the hero's part to let the 
warder betray his trust in this fashion ? It is a little 
like straining at a gnat and swallowing a camel; for 
the wife's reputation, after all, could very easily have 


been re-established, whereas nothing can undo the 
warder's flagrant breach of duty. These scruples, 
however, do not trouble the authors. It is half-past 
ten, and the villain is waiting to be checkmated, so 
there is no time for contests of generosity. It will be 
seen that novelty is not one of the merits of The Free 
Pardon^ nor, to tell the truth, is it a particularly skilful 
or spirited working-up of the old material. It served 
its purpose, however, and fairly entertained a good- 
humoured but not very impressionable audience. 

Mr. Harrison Hunter and Miss Esme Beringer 
made a pleasant enough hero and heroine. Mr. 
Edward O'Neill, as the villain, might have been 
more plausible, but could scarcely have been more 
sinister. Mr. George Cockburn and Miss Cicely 
Richards were capital as the warder and his wife; 
and Mr. Courtenay Thorpe, as the hero's father, who 
is murdered in the first act, played not unimpressively. 
The manageress, Miss Vane, contented herself with 
the subordinate part of the villain's accomplice, and 
played it well. Mr. Abingdon for once put off the 
villain and put on the comic man, in the person 
of an American reporter who mightily amused the 
audience. I daresay he might equally amuse an 
American audience but it would be in a different 

The late W. G. Wills had in him an undeniable 

strain of the poet, and even of the dramatic poet. 



The fact that he has not very notably enriched our 
dramatic literature must be ascribed, I think, to two 
reasons: he followed bad models, and his taste was 
very uncertain, his sense of form defective. His 
ideal of dramatic composition was too much in- 
fluenced by German sentimentalism and English 
fustian. His style suggested, at times, the last 
dying echo of that pseudo-Elizabethan rodomontade 
which reverberated through the century and a half 
between Otway and Sheridan Knowles. But even in 
verse he sometimes struck a purer and more individual 
note, while in prose he now and then did work of real 
strength and distinction. Why does not one of his 
friends Mr. Joseph Knight for example edit for us a 
couple of volumes of his best plays ? In such a collec- 
tion, Olivia* revived on Saturday at the Lyceum, would 
certainly take an honourable place. It is a most 
sympathetic transcript of The Vicar of Wakefield, 
true to the spirit of its original, yet owing curiously 
little to the actual text of Goldsmith's narrative. It is 
full of pleasant touches which might very well be in 
Goldsmith, but are not. In other words, Mr. Wills 
did not merely paste-and-scissor a play out of a 
novel, but imbued himself with Goldsmith's humour 
and sentiment, and then proceeded to an almost 
independent act of invention and creation. Read 
The Vicar after seeing Olivia, and you will be 
* January 30 February 20 (afternoon). 

"OLIVIA." 19 

astonished to find how unlike they are in the midst 
of their likeness. One defect of construction Mr. 
Wills has too faithfully transferred from the book 
he omits to provide any semblance of a motive 
for Sir William ThornhilPs persisting so long in his 
disguise, and not locking the stable-door till the steed 
is stolen. Otherwise I do not see how the dramatist 
could have done his work better. It would be absurd 
to quarrel with the simple-minded way in which Olivia 
is held to be highly praiseworthy or deeply blame- 
worthy according as the parson who married her to 
Thornhill was or was not in holy orders, although no 
one has the least doubt that in any case she believed 
the ceremony to be perfectly genuine. This belongs 
to the manners of the book and of the time, and it 
would be a flat anachronism to represent the Vicar's 
family as sensible of the slightest drawback to the joy 
with which they learn that Olivia is an "honest 
woman" in virtue of being tied for life to a heart- 
less scoundrel. 

Mr. Hermann Vezin's portraiture of the Vicar is a 
very delicate and artistically subdued piece of acting, 
full of humour and feeling, yet never straying into 
over-emphasis. Miss Ellen Terry was obviously 
suffering from a severe cold on Saturday night, 
and was therefore not quite at her best. The 
lighter scenes she played rather perfunctorily and 
from the outside; but when the situation took hold 


of her, she showed all her old depth of feeling. 
Olivia is certainly one of the real creations of her 
career. Miss Julia Arthur made a pleasant Sophia, 
and Miss Maud Milton was good as Mrs. Primrose. 

POSTSCRIPT. I append an extract from an article 
(St. Paul's, May i, 1897) upon the influences 
which tend to make critics, and theatrical critics in 
particular, readier to condemn than to praise a new 
production : 

" Of one thing I am sure to wit, that on a first night 
of any importance, when we feel that something more 
than conventional phrases will be expected of us, we 
are apt to get into a condition of hypersesthesia, and 
scan the play with an intentness which throws 
blemishes into exaggerated relief. Our eyes, as Sam 
Weller would say, become ' patent double-magnifying 
gas microscopes.' Not once, but fifty times, have I 
found a second visit to a play take the edge off my 
first-night criticisms. The faults I had noted might 
be real enough, but, somehow mainly because I 
was prepared for them they would bulk far less 
largely in proportion to the merits of the piece. A 
curious instance of this gradual softening towards a 
play occurred in my own experience not long ago. 

"When Olivia was revived at the Lyceum in 
February last, I went to see it in a somewhat passive 
and somnolent frame of mind the very opposite of 

"OLIVIA. 21 

an alert first-night mood. Apart from the acting of 
Miss Terry and Mr. Vezin (and Miss Terry had a 
cold that night, and was not at her best), the play 
bored me exceedingly. It was only the sternest 
sense of duty that made me sit it out, and yet, as I 
did sit it out, the workmanship of it, without giving 
me positive pleasure, distinctly satisfied me. Point 
after point my intelligence approved, even though 
my emotions remained untouched. In writing of the 
production I expressed this sense of approval with 
some warmth. My article was sent to me in proof, and 
as I read it there came over me a vague sense that 
though I had more than once criticised the same play 
before, I had never treated it in this spirit. I looked 
up the essay on W. G. Wills in a book I had 
published in 1882 and compared my opinion of that 
date with my feeling of to-day. Let me print the 
passages side by side : 

1882. 1897. 

" Olivia has been praised " Olivia is a most sympa- 

much above its deserts. It is thetic transcript of The Vicar 

by no means the best dramatic of Wakefield. . . . Mr. Wills 

version we possess of The did not merely paste-and- 

Vicar of Wakefield. It con- scissor a play out of a novel, 

tains some beautiful touches, but imbued himself with Gold- 

but also several errors of smith's humour and senti- 

taste, and the last two acts, ment, and then proceeded 

especially the last of all, are to an almost independent act 

extremely faulty." of invention and creation." 


"How has this change of view come about? Is 
it simply that I am older and wiser? or older and 
foolisher? Has my standard become debased in 
the course of fifteen years' journey-work? Or has 
the play improved with keeping? In 1882 I seem 
to have had clear in my memory some other version 
of the story, which has now vanished and left no 
trace, so that I no longer subject Olivia to the 
ordeal of comparison. But that is only part of the 
explanation. The real fact, probably, is that the 
placid and indifferent mood in which I went to the 
Lyceum was more conducive to tolerant receptivity 
than the high-strung and exacting temper in which 
I studied the play when it was new. . . . 

"What, then, is the moral to be deduced from these 
reflections ? In the first place, it appears that we should 
often do well, in giving our first impressions of a play, 
to moderate the trenchancy of our judgments " to 
praise as though one day we might blame, to blame 
as though one day we might praise." In the second 
place, we are put on the track of a theory which I 
have not space at present to develop : namely, that 
the classic or masterpiece is not the faultless play, 
but the play which has sufficient vitality to hold its 
own, until, by process of time, its faults come to 
seem, if not absolute merits, at least unalterable facts, 
as far beyond the range of criticism as Mont Blanc 
or the Atlantic Ocean." 




TO//Z February. 

IT is pleasant to meet Mr. Wilson Barrett once more 
on ordinary human terms. Before The Sign of the 
Cross, criticism could only stand aghast, and protest 
that this brutal and vulgar spectacle at no point 
touched the confines of its province. All rational 
discussion presupposes some common standard to 
which reference may be made, explicitly or tacitly; 
and for my part I felt that I had not only no principle 
but no perception in common with any one who could 
tolerate The Sign of the Cross.* If you put coarse 
brandy on the table and tell me it is the finest 
burgundy, and hold it up to the light, and smack 
your lips over it, and pronounce it an exquisite and 
exhilarating beverage, it is useless for me to argue 
against your delusion : I can only push my glass 
away, and wonder what has befallen your eyes, your 
nose, and your palate. Nor can you persuade me 
that bad spirits are good wine by showing that up to 
a certain point the chemical composition of the two 
things is the same. I have been reproachfully reminded 
that there are torture scenes and massacres and orgies 
in other plays besides The Sign of the Cross, to which 
* Theatrical World of 1896, p. 9. 


I have made no special objection; nay, that I have 
even defended the torture scene in La Tosca. To 
argue thus is merely to ignore the first principle of 
criticism, which is, broadly speaking, that matter is 
nothing and manner everything that it is of very 
little moment what you do, while everything depends 
on how you do it. Any one who, knowing the two 
plays, does not discern the world-wide difference 
between the torture scene in La Tosca and that in 
The Sign of the Cross, is flatly incapable of artistic 
perception. Moreover, I never pretended that the 
torture of Mario (or La Tosca as a whole) was a piece 
of high or admirable art. I only said that, accepting 
it as a link in a rather ingenious chain of make- 
believe, I did not find it cause me the intolerable 
anguish of spirit with which it seemed to afflict some 
other critics. This is qualified praise, at best. La 
Tosca is low art, certainly; bad art, perhaps; but 
there is sufficient intellectual competence and manipu- 
lative skill in it to bring it within the range of rational 
criticism. The Sign of the Cross, in my judgment, 
never for a moment came within that circle. It is 
neither low art nor bad art, but no art at all. Do 
not tell me that in thus writing of it I abandon my 
position. I mention it, because the stage is my 
subject, and this thing exists on the stage ay, on a 
hundred stages. But it remains, as aforesaid, beyond 
the range of criticism. Nothing that I have written 


now or at any other time, has affected, or will affect, 
any one who is capable of admiring this play. Such 
a person does not know what art is, in the sense a 
wide sense enough, in all conscience in which the 
word is used in these pages. On the other hand, 
readers with whom I stand on common ground, who 
share my general conceptions of art and sense and 
decency, do not' require any demonstration, from me 
or any one else, that The Sign of the Cross is, artisti- 
cally speaking, a thing beyond the pale. Its popularity 
is a phenomenon of a certain interest to all who 
concern themselves about the stage. It is a fact, like 
any other; and it is useless to close our eyes to facts. 
But there is a vast difference between recognising 
the fact and criticising the play. Its admirers and 
champions complain bitterly that I have never 
criticised it and they are right. I have simply 
denounced it from the first. 

Quite different is the case of The Daughters of 
Babylon* Here we have a play which comes well 
within the range of criticism. It is an entirely 
innocent, rather tedious, singularly well-mounted 
melodrama of the second or third order. Not com- 
parable for a moment with good French work such, 
for instance, as Two Little Vagabonds or with the 
best English work of its class, such as The Silver 
King, it ranks decidedly above the average Adelphi 
* February 6 April 10. 


melodrama, in respect both of aim and of execution. 
It stands, in short, very much on the level of the 
inferior plays of the old Princess's series such plays 
as Ctaudian, Hoodman Blind, and The Lord Harry. 
So marked is its resemblance to the dramas in which 
Mr. Barrett collaborated with Mr. Henry Arthur 
Jones, that I feel I owe both these gentlemen an 
apology. I used to suspect that this collaboration 
was merely nominal, or at any rate that Mr. Barrett's 
share in it consisted mainly in staging the plays. 
This was evidently quite a mistake. His must have 
been the inspiring spirit if not the shaping hand. 
Mr. Jones, even in those distant days, had a knack of 
infusing a certain vigour into individual scenes, which 
we miss in The Daughters of Babylon; but otherwise 
this melodrama of Mr. Barrett's own invention bears 
the strongest family resemblance to its predecessors. 
Thus we may safely attribute to Mr. Barrett a deter- 
mining share in the manufacture of Hoodman Blind 
and The Lord Harry ; and this partition of responsi- 
bility is eminently to the advantage of both collabora- 
tors. Mr. Barrett can no longer be suspected of not 
having done his part of the work, and Mr. Jones 
stands acquitted of having done the whole. 

The first act of The Daughters of Babylon is by a 
long way the best. It announces a very interesting 
conflict between passion and law an essentially 
dramatic theme and it is put together with a good 


deal of skill. In the second and third acts, the drama, 
as drama, falls to pieces, and becomes an arbitrary 
series of adventures, with no necessary coherence and 
no effect of climax. There is a great appearance of 
movement and excitement about some of the situa- 
tions, but they all come to nothing, neither compli- 
cating nor unravelling the dramatic skein. For 
example, the auction scene, which is the great 
"effect" of the third act, is not only ludicrous in 
itself dragged in simply because a passage of bidding 
or betting always produces a certain thrill in an 
audience but is absolutely annulled the minute it 
is over by the opportune rebellion which sets the 
hero and heroine free. Why all this fuss as to who is 
to own Lemuel and Elna, when, as a matter of fact, 
they are to escape from bondage altogether the 
moment the hammer has fallen ? The position of 
affairs would have been precisely the same if the 
revolt of the Jews had occurred before instead of 
after the sale, which is therefore a mere excrescence 
on the action. The same may be said, in a minor 
degree, of the whole second and third acts, and the 
first scene of the fourth. The drama really consists 
of the first act and the last scene. The intermediate 
passages serve no essential purpose except to give 
Ishtar a motive (such as it is) for threatening to 
accuse Jediah, and so forcing him to renounce his 
vengeance upon Lemuel and Elna. This practically 


means that the whole of the second and third acts 
might be expunged, except one scene to account for 
Ishtar's interference. Of character, of course, we 
have no trace the personages are the seraphic hero 
and angelic heroine, the saturnine villain, and the 
sentimental courtesan, purified and ennobled through 
her hopeless passion for the hero. Thus the piece 
fulfils to the letter the definition of melodrama dolls 
and declamation. On the other hand, Mr. Barrett 
has been notably sparing of comic relief. What there 
was of it was mainly unintentional for instance, the 
collapse of the villain when he is outbidden at the 
auction, and his docile repetition of the judgment 
dictated to him from the well of the court by his 
ex-mistress, Ishtar. 

I have said nothing, you observe, of the great and 
masterly originality of the play its biblical diction. 
I have said nothing, because really it is not my affair. 
If Mr. Barrett's friends the clergy approve, who am I 
that I should object ? There is a story of an old 
Scotchwoman reproving her grandson for reading the 
newspaper with the snuffle and chant which she 
regarded as exclusively applicable to the Scriptures. 
"Eh, Jock!" she cried, "ye mauna read it in that 
holy way ! " To tell the truth, I incline to this good 
lady's opinion I should probably have liked Mr. 
Barrett's melodrama better if he had not written it in 
" that holy way." For one thing, it is so much the 


longer way ; " well stricken in years " is five times as 
long as "old," "perad venture" is twice as long as 
"perhaps," and "he goes to Babylon," compared 
with "he goeth unto Babylon," shows a gain in brevity 
of just twenty-five per cent. But, after all, it matters 
very little, and by making his dialogue a mosaic of 
biblical phrases the Jews of the Captivity were 
apparently quite familiar with the New Testament as 
well as the Old Mr. Barrett manages to get some 
touches of beauty into it. If only he could at the 
same time keep out the frequent touches of modern 
commonplace ! Without pitting my knowledge of 
the Scriptures against Mr. Barrett's, I should be 
curious to learn the biblical authority for " I claim 
that these two are adulterers," or " For the first time 
in all her short wicked feverish life she knows a good 
man's pure love," or " I do it all for one kind thought 
from him, one pulsation of pity, one gleam of grati- 
tude," or again, " It is not good for woman to lose 
her faith in man." All these phrases, except the first, 
are placed in the mouth of the Babylonian Dame aux 
Camelias. I need scarcely give further specimens of 
the linguistic tact and historic sense displayed by this 
dramatist. In his care for local colour, he has filled 
his very dialogue with Assyrian bulls. 

But oh ! it is a relief to be in vague, far-off Babylon, 
which nobody knows or cares anything about, and not 
in imperial Rome. If The Sign of the Cross had been 


in every other respect as inoffensive as The Daughters 
of Babylon, it would still have been hard to forgive 
Mr. Barrett for taking the great name of Rome in 

The mounting is exceptionally beautiful. The 
pastoral scenes of the first and last act, painted by 
Mr. Telbin and Mr. Ryan respectively, are real works 
of art ; and Mr. Hann shows a grandiose, Martinesque 
imagination in his pictures of Babylon. Mr. Barrett 
plays the hero in that staccato, peremptory style 
which has won him such hosts of admirers, and is not 
quite so aggressively statuesque in his costumes as he 
is wont to be. He appreciably protracted the per- 
formance by what I take to be a " holy " way of pro- 
nouncing the names of his lady friends "Elllll-na," 
" Ishshsh-tar " with the first syllable dragged out 
like a languishing concertina. Miss Maud Jeffries 
played Elna very gracefully, and Miss Lily Hanbury 
was vehement and effective as Ishtar. Mr. Franklin 
McLeay's Jediah was a remarkably picturesque and 
forcible piece of acting. It was not Mr. McLeay's 
fault that one or two of the things he had to do were 
irresistibly ludicrous. 




i ith February. 

ALTHOUGH I am an uncompromising believer in the 
right of the paying public to express disapproval in 
theatres: although I often envy those sturdy en- 
thusiasts in the gallery who can give immediate 
utterance to their disgust and irritation, and are 
sometimes even privileged to relieve their feelings in 
a hand-to-hand tussle with the acting manager and 
his myrmidons : although I think the gallery, as a 
rule, too tolerant rather than too captious : yet I 
own myself at a loss to defend or understand the 
sounds of hostility which mingled with the applause 
at the close of Nelson's Enchantress* That some 
people may have been mildly bored I readily under- 
stand; I myself was not more than mildly interested; 
but there was nothing base, nothing offensive, nothing 
pretentiously inept in the play nothing, in short, 
that could possibly merit a sterner verdict than 
silence. And even that, in my judgment, would have 
been unduly harsh. Had I been in the gallery I 
should certainly have applauded, not only the actors, 
* Avenue Theatre, February n March 17 (?). 


but the play. It is not a work of dramatic genius ; 
there is no trace of invention or construction in it ; 
but there is a fine literary tact, a delicacy, a sobriety 
which ought to be recognised even by those who 
prefer drama in the narrower sense of the word to 
idealised biography. " Risden Home " may never be 
a playwright, but she has written very agreeable text 
to a series of quasi-historic tableaux. She has read, 
I take it, not only the actual documents of the case, 
but Miss Burney and Miss Austen to boot, so that 
her diction, without labour or strain, smacks plea- 
santly of the period. And if the arrangement of 
the tableaux shows no definite dramatic inspiration, 
neither does it show unintelligence or incompetence. 
To hoot at such work, simply because another style 
of work happens to be more to your taste, is clearly 
to abuse the privilege of free comment. 

For my part, I am all for widening our definition 
of drama so as to include these tableau-plays. Ever 
since the company of the Theatre -Libre acted La 
Mort du due d'Enghien at the Royalty, I have felt 
convinced that there are fine effects to be got from 
the faithful reconstruction and transference to the 
stage of certain episodes of history. " Risden Home," 
it is true, is by no means pedantically faithful to fact. 
She frankly idealises Lady Hamilton, and if she does 
not precisely idealise Nelson, she makes no attempt 
to get in the subtler lights and shades of his character. 


She stipples away the nodosities and seams of his 
physiognomy. She dwells on the pathos of the 
empty sleeve, but shirks the grotesqueness of the 
blinded eye. Well, the time has not yet come for a real 
Nelson on the stage. When another hundred years 
have elapsed, and brought a new technique and a 
new public, it is quite conceivable that a genuine 
study of that extraordinary character may be cast in 
dramatic form. In the meantime we must be content 
with the traditional hero, who was quite near enough 
to the actual man to pass muster, if tactfully pre- 
sented, without flagrantly offending our sense of 
reality. And in this case there is nothing blatant or 
blusterous in the presentation. The real Nelson, if 
I am not mistaken, was a good deal more given to 
bragging than the Nelson of " Risden Home." He 
was certainly not averse from posing as a hero. There 
is a curious picture in Macready's Reminiscences of 
Nelson and Lady Hamilton visiting the Birmingham 
Theatre during the Peace of Amiens. After the play 
(Henry JV.} there was "a sort of divertisement in 
honour of the illustrious visitor." One item of the 
"divertisement" was a song with the refrain : 

" We'll shake hands and be friends ; if they won't, 

why, what then ? 
We'll send our brave Nelson to thrash 'em again, 

Derry down," etc. 

" The crowded house was frantic in its applause at 



this sublime effusion. Lady Hamilton, laughing loud 
and without stint, clapped with uplifted hands and 
all her heart, and kicked with her heels against the 
footboard of the seat, while Nelson placidly and 
with his mournful look bowed repeatedly to the oft- 
repeated cheers." Such a scene reminds one that 
it is possible to be a hero and at the same time to 
know it, and even to court the vulgar rewards of 
heroism for no doubt Nelson could have avoided 
such demonstrations had he cared to. But the fact 
remains that when it came to the pinch he did 
"thrash 'em again," and to some purpose; that he 
was a man of unique genius for the work he had to 
do; a man who inspired his adoring followers with 
something of his own magnanimity ; and a man, to 
conclude, who laid down his life simply and greatly 
for the welfare and greatness, as he understood it, of 
the country we call ours. That scene in the cockpit 
of the Victory >, here placed upon the stage, not 
irreverently or ineffectively, casts its light backwards 
upon such garish passages as that in the Birming- 
ham Theatre, and makes them pathetic rather than 
ludicrous. Moreover, he was capable of an intense 
personal devotion which, from his own day even to 
ours, has overborne and almost put to silence British 
morality. The very fact that Lady Hamilton, even 
partially whitewashed, should figure after a hundred 
years as the sympathetic heroine of an English play, 


is a curious testimony to the abiding magic of the 
name of Nelson. And surely we cannot regret 
this magic, or resent having it brought home to us 
once more in this tasteful and graceful fashion. In 
no instance, probably, is national hero-worship saner 
or better justified. Nelson was a great man, if ever 
there was one, not because his character was flawless, 
but because he was pre-eminently and magnificently 
the right man in the right place. And, though no one 
who knows me will, I hope, suspect me of Jingoism, 
I cannot but reflect that the future, not only of 
England but of democratic civilisation, may at no 
distant day depend on our finding another Nelson 
(with or without a Lady Hamilton), and knowing him 
when we have found him. 

It seemed to me that the audience, as a whole, 
was charmed and moved by the play. It relished 
(or so I imagined) the veryabsence of drama, in the 
narrow, not to say the vulgar, sense of the word. 
Drama, in that sense, essentially and inevitably falsifies 
history ; whereas here we had simple and plausible 
glimpses of the past, which kindled the imagination 
without insulting the intelligence. What matter 
though this Lady Hamilton was not the Emma Hart 
of the scandalous chronicle ? It was Nelson that we 
cared about, and we were quite content to see Lady 
Hamilton with his eyes rather than with those of 
history or gossip. After all, there was nothing to 


show that these events the meeting after the Nile, 
the parting before Trafalgar, the arrival of the splendid 
and terrible tidings did not take place very much 
as we here saw them ; and it certainly pleased me, for 
the moment, to conceive that they did. I even found 
something singularly touching in the idea of that 
chilly dawn, the woman fevered with hope and dread, 
the murmur from the street, the gathering roar, and 
flashing out of it, like forked lightning from a thunder- 
cloud, the phrases " Glorious victory ! " and " Death 
of Nelson ! " But my colleagues, it appears, were 
not to be so childishly amused. The play was not 
a play ; it was neither history nor fiction ; it was 
naught, and must come to naught. I am sorry ; I 
believe the public would have thrilled to these echoes 
of great days and deeds if the press had given it half 
a chance. As it is, I fear the canons of criticism have 
outroared the cannon of Trafalgar. 

Mr. Forbes Robertson, marvellously made up, 
played Nelson with sympathetic tact. Mrs. Patrick 
Campbell's Lady Hamilton was beautiful and touch- 
ing throughout, but especially admirable in the first 
act. The scene of the rupture with Greville is, in my 
view, the best piece of real acting Mrs. Campbell has 
ever done. It enlarges my conception of her powers. 
Other parts are well played by Mr. Nutcombe Gould, 
Mr. Elwood, Mr. Ben Greet, Mr. Sydney Brough, 
Mr. Frank Dyall, Mr. C. M. Lowne, and Mrs. 


E. H. Brooke; and the mounting is careful and 

If My Friend the Prince* at the Garrick, achieves 
the success predicted for it in some quarters, it will 
be in virtue of the excellent acting of Mr. James 
Welch, Mr. Fred Kaye, Mr. Aubrey Boucicault, Mr. 
Paul Arthur, and Miss Juliette Nesville, to say 
nothing of the superb beauty of Miss Miriam 
Clements, whose apparition in the last act, in a 
robe of regal splendour, simply took our breath away. 
The play, adapted from the American by Mr. J. H. 
McCarthy, is one of those which subsist on the 
indulgence of audiences greedy of laughter and 
determined that nothing shall baulk them of their 
feast. The initial idea is good, and promises a lively 
and ingenious comic romance. But the develop- 
ments soon become arbitrarily fantastic and incon- 
ceivable, straining our power of make-believe out of 
all proportion to the effect attained. From the 
moment when Mr. Pinning undertook to impersonate 
Prince Maurice of Pannonia in order to drive the 
other impostor from the field, I confess that I lost 
all interest in the incoherent fable, and laughed solely 
at the whimsicality of the comedians, without refer- 
ence to either dialogue or situations. This, I fancy, 
is very much what the average audience always does, 
even when the dialogue and situations happen to be 
* February 13 August 6. 


good; so that it is quite possible My Friend the 
Prince may succeed. It is preceded by The Man in 
the Street, with Mr. Welch as the clarinet-player a 
painfully able character study. 

The new programme at the Strand is empty but 
inoffensive; and, as things go, that is no slight praise. 
It opens with an old-fashioned French comedietta, 
entitled A Merry Christmas* in which Miss Florence 
Gerard, condemned to an outrageously farcical part 
in the subsequent play, reminds us in advance that 
farce is not her native element. She acts very agree- 
ably, and should certainly find openings for her talent 
in work of a higher order than The Prodigal Father* 
by Mr. Glen Macdonough. This three -act farce, 
another importation from America, is a piece of 
unmitigated nonsense, with no pretence to wit or 
ingenuity, but now and then amusing in virtue of 
its sheer, reckless extravagance. Miss Gerard here 
played a music-hall star, the point of whose character 
consists in its aggressive vulgarity. Her performance 
was clever, but somewhat self-conscious and calcu- 
lated. It lacked the impetus essential to such a 
personage. Mr. Charles Collette put impetus enough 
and to spare into an antiquated "patter" part; Mr. 
Harry Paulton was stolidly amusing as an v African 
traveller who has never been nearer Africa than 
Margate; and other parts were filled by Mr. 
* February 117. f February I March 26. 


Charles Weir, Mr. Hargreaves, and little Miss Lulu 

The performance of Twelfth Night* by the Eliza- 
bethan Stage Society in the Middle Temple Hall 
did not greatly differ from their previous rendering 
of the comedy,! but was on the whole better. Apart 
from the particular tenets they seek to enforce (to 
which I can give but a qualified adhesion), this 
society now forms a capital company of amateurs. 
There was not in the cast of Twelfth Night a single 
obtrusively square peg in a round hole. The scene 
in the noble old hall was altogether picturesque and 



Daily Chronicle^ igth February. 

DON JOSE ECHEGARAY has written fifty or sixty plays, 
and of these I have read four in translations. 
Evidently, then, I am in no position to estimate 
his genius as a whole. The four which have been 
translated, The Great Galeoto, Folly or Saintliness, 
The Son of Don Juan, and Mariana, are all dramas 
of modern life ; but in a list of his works before 
me I note "dramatic legends," "tragic legends," 
* February 12. t Theatrical World of 1895, p. 219. 


a "dramatic picture of the sixteenth century," a 
"trilogy," a "tragic study," various comedies, and 
at least one proverb. We may take it, however, 
from the very fact of their having been selected for 
translation, that the four plays above mentioned are 
fairly characteristic of one side of his manifold 
activity. Certain it is that they all exhibit some 
salient and admirable qualities which, in my judg- 
ment, give the author a very high place among the 
living dramatists of Europe. The performances of 
Mariana, to take place next week at the Court 
Theatre, will not be, strictly speaking, his first 
introduction to the English stage. Mr. Malcolm 
Watson "discovered" him ten years ago, and pro- 
duced an adaptation of El gran Galeoto. In the 
meantime, however, his fame has spread through 
Europe ; he has been acted in Paris, and several 
of his plays have achieved some popularity on the 
cosmopolitan stage of Germany. He is now to be 
reintroduced to us in a translation, not an adaptation, 
so that we may hope to get nearer his true artistic 
individuality, which is above all things national. 

His name has been linked with Ibsen's on the 
prospectus of the Court performances; but the two 
poets have scarcely anything in common. There 
is more of Bjornson than of Ibsen in the facile, 
voluminous, sanguine Echegaray. But in truth he 
is to be contrasted rather than compared with all 


northern dramatists whatsoever. He is essentially 
southern. Even a Provengal like Daudet even an 
Italian like Paolo Ferrari appears staid and cold- 
blooded by the side of this ebullient Spaniard. In 
his fertility, his copious rhetoric, and his love of 
vivid, romantic situation, he proves himself a true 
descendant of Lope and Calderon. Many of his 
plays, indeed (El gran Galeoto for one), are written 
in the assonant verse, with passages of rhyme, used 
by the classic dramatists of his country. How 
unlike are his methods to Ibsen's is proved by the 
fact that, though he took to play-writing late in life 
(after having been a distinguished mathematician, 
an engineer, a statesman and Minister, and a political 
exile), he has in twenty years produced two or 
three times as much work as Ibsen in his whole 
career of nearly forty-five years. Ibsen is essentially 
reflective, Echegaray essentially impetuous ; Ibsen's 
dialogue is a mosaic, Echegaray 's a lava-stream. 
Difficult as Ibsen is to translate (I speak feelingly), 
Echegaray must be far more difficult. Norwegian, 
after all, is a cognate language to our own ; the 
time and rhythm of Norwegian conversation are not 
so very different from the time and rhythm of English. 
The Spaniard, on the other hand, speaks three words 
to our one, and I am not without a suspicion that 
Echegaray's excitable heroes speak six words to the 
average Spaniard's three. The consequence is that 


volubility in Spanish becomes prolixity in English, 
and what is probably picturesque rhetoric in the 
original is apt to seem amazing fustian in the trans- 
lation. That is the reason, I take it, why the 
dramatist's extraordinary power has hitherto met with 
scant recognition in England. His plays have to 
be read through rather than in the literal versions 
published in this country; and I am not surprised to 
find that Mr. Graham's stage version of Mariana is 
much less literal than the printed book. 

Mariana will speak for itself on Monday next. 
While it is the most beautiful, it is perhaps the least 
characteristic of the four plays, inasmuch as it has no 
theme or thesis, but is a love tragedy pure and simple. 
The drama which established the poet's fame, both in 
the Peninsula and throughout Europe, was El gran 
Gakoto as who should say " The Great Go-between." 
Quite devoid of technical fastidiousness, Echegaray 
shrinks from no device by which he can clearly strike 
the keynote of a play in the opening scenes. Some- 
times he begins with a little essay, either in monologue 
or dialogue, and to El gran Gakoto he actually pre- 
fixes what the Elizabethans would have called an 
" Induction," in which the leading characters discuss 
the theme before the drama begins. Ernest, a young 
poet, is sitting at his desk, in despair because he can- 
not give form to a dramatic idea which possesses him. 
To him enters his friend and benefactor, Don Julian, 


and asks what is the matter. " Why this," replies 
Ernest, " that the principal personage of my drama, 
who creates, develops, and animates the action, and 
brings about the catastrophe, cannot possibly be 
brought on the stage." This personage, it appears, is 
none other than todo el mundo all the world every- 
body with their whispers, innuendos, questions, sugges- 
tions, significant smiles, raised eyebrows, and shoulder- 
shrugs. To concentrate this "everybody" into one 
or two types, says Ernest, is necessary to falsify the 
picture, and make it seem as though malicious scandal- 
mongering were the subject; whereas todo el mundo is 
"listless and absent-minded, acting without passion, 
without anger, without guile, often for mere distrac- 
tion's sake." His drama, too, can have little external 
action; it "evolves within the personages; it advances 
slowly; to-day it takes hold of a thought, to-morrow 
of a heart-beat, until little by little the will is under- 
mined." To place this explanatory and deprecatory 
prologue in the mouths of the leading actors in the 
drama seems to me a grievous artistic error; but one 
understands the author's despair of fully conveying 
the subtlety of his intention within the limits imposed 
by the dramatic form. 

The play, when we reach it, is nobly and classically 
simple. Don Julian, a man of forty, has an adoring 
and devoted young wife, Teodora. Ernest, the only 
son of a man who founded or restored Don Julian's 


fortune, has rooms in his house, and is treated as his 
adopted son. The situation at the outset is made 
abundantly clear. Ernest and Teodora are good 
friends, but have absolutely no thought of anything 
beyond friendship. Teodora is passionately attached 
to her husband, while Ernest feels for him the most 
whole-hearted gratitude and affection. All would be 
well, if only todo el mundo would let well alone ; but 
that is impossible, for " people will talk." The world, 
in this case, is represented by Don Julian's brother, 
Don Severe, his wife Mercedes, and their empty- 
headed son, Pepito. They are not bad or malicious 
people by nature, but they think it their duty (and 
perhaps it is their duty) to report to Don Julian and 
Teodora "what people are saying." And now the 
dramatist's art is shown in the delicate degrees by 
which the poison works in the mind, not only of Don 
Julian but of Teodora and Ernest as well. Don 
Julian indignantly repulses the suggestion ; he feels, 
he knows it to be untrue and degrading. But the 
very effort of rejecting the doubt disturbs his mental 
equilibrium. He begins to watch Teodora and Ernest, 
and he sees that they are self-conscious and embar- 
rassed. This is only natural under the circumstances; 
but who knows ? it may be an unconfeseed feeling 
on their part that has wakened to consciousness. 
Don Julian may say, with Othello, " Farewell the 
tranquil mind," and except in the third act of Othello, 


I know not where to find a parallel for the inevitable- 
ness of the process by which, without the intervention 
of any lago, he is swept through all the shades of 
feeling between the serenest faith and the wildest 

At the opening of the second act he is still resolved 
to live down the tittle-tattle. Ernest has insisted on 
leaving his house, and is going to start for Buenos 
Ayres. Don Julian comes to his lodging to beg him 
to remain; he does not find Ernest, but learns that 
he is to fight a duel that day with a man about town, 
who has spoken slightingly of Teodora. This, of 
course, Don Julian cannot permit; he himself must 
seek out and chastise the traducer of his wife. He 
goes off, Ernest returns, and presently Teodora enters. 
She, too, has heard of the intended duel, and has 
come to implore Ernest not to fight, pointing out to 
him that to do so will make the scandal ten times 
worse. This is obviously true; but what can be 
done? Every movement they make plunges them 
deeper into the maze of misconception. Some one is 
heard approaching; if it is Don Julian, Teodora will 
stay and meet him; he will not misunderstand her 
presence. But it is not Don Julian, it is the 
chattering Pepito; and Teodora conceals herself in 
the adjoining bedroom. Pepito has come with the 
news that Don Julian has met Ernest's antagonist, 
they have fought, and Don Julian has been seriously 


wounded. The duel has taken place close by, and 
the wounded man is being brought to Ernest's rooms. 
He appears, and so genuine is Ernest's love and 
sorrow that for a moment he forgets Teodora. Then 
those who are supporting Don Julian make a move 
towards the bedroom, and Ernest has to bar the way 
against his dying benefactor. They push past him 
and throw open the door, discovering Teodora; and 
on this terrible situation the curtain falls. In the last 
act the hapless Ernest and Teodora writhe helplessly 
in the toils of calumny, which, against their own will, 
draw them ever closer and closer together. Don 
Julian dies, after having summoned up his last 
strength to strike Ernest in the face; and the curtain 
falls upon Ernest taking Teodora into his arms and 
facing the representatives of todo el mundo. "She is 
mine," he says; "the world has so willed it, and I 
accept its decision. . . . Come, Teodora; my mother's 
spirit kisses your pure brow. Adieu all ! And let 
heaven choose its day to judge between me and 
you!" Such, says the poet, is the work of "The 
Great Go-between." 

I hope that even this slight sketch may show how 
ably the play is conceived. But no narrative can 
convey any idea of the extraordinary vigour of the 
scenes. Echegaray has a rare genius for wringing 
every drop of effect out of a situation. His technique 
is often clumsy and careless (according to our ideas) 


his mechanism antiquated; but in the thoroughness 
with which he works out all the various aspects and 
potentialities of a given conjuncture, he has scarcely 
a rival. His Son of Don Juan is, to my thinking, a 
very inferior play. It is confessedly suggested by 
Ibsen's Ghosts^ and is, in fact, the play Ibsen did not 
write, the play of which Ibsen's is simply the sublima- 
tion and the catastrophe. Echegaray, moreover, gives 
us a mere diatribe against debauchery, in place of 
Ibsen's stern arraignment of social conventions. 
But there is one scene in The Son of Don Juan 
of extraordinary strength and originality. Lazaro, the 
Oswald of the play, a " degenerate " of genius, has 
learnt that his mother has returned greatly disturbed 
from a conversation with a celebrated specialist in 
nervous disease. By chance he meets this doctor, 
who mentions in an off-hand way that his mother has 
been consulting him about a nephew whose health 
causes her great uneasiness. Lazaro is well aware 
that no such nephew exists; but by pretending to 
know all about the case, with a cunning which is 
half genius and half insanity, he worms out of the 
doctor his mother's terrible indictment of his father's 
life, and the sentence of approaching paralysis and 
idiocy which the doctor, judging from the mother's 
statement, has passed upon the son himself. The 
scene is painful in the extreme, but is worked up 
with amazing ingenuity and power. Every facet of 


the situation is presented in turn, and each is more 
appalling than the last. 

Far stronger as a whole than The Son of Don 
Juan is an earlier play, Folly or Saintliness, 
which ought rather to be entitled Madman or 
Saint. Don Lorenzo is a man of great wealth, 
and of the most scrupulous honour. We find him, 
when the curtain rises, delivering a little essay in 
monologue upon Don Quixote, and defending the 
sanity of the Ingenious Hidalgo. His only daughter, 
the apple of his eye, has set her whole heart upon 
marriage with a young man of the bluest blood, and 
will die if she is thwarted. Just as everything is on 
the point of being arranged, Lorenzo learns that he 
has been "changed at birth," or rather that his 
supposed parents never had any children, but passed 
off the child of a servant as their own. His real 
mother, now dying, reveals this fact to him, and 
produces in proof a letter from his supposed mother, 
long since dead. Hereupon, to the horror of his wife, 
his daughter, and every one, he insists on giving up 
not only the inheritance to which he has no right, but 
also the name which is not his. This will render 
his daughter's marriage impossible, and his heart is 
agonised at the thought; but his will is immovable. 
The marriage might still be arranged if he would 
agree to a compromise, retaining the name and finding 
some pretext for handing over the fortune to the 


rightful heirs. He wavers, but finally stands firm; 
and this obstinacy, accompanied by transports of 
frenzied grief, comes gradually to wear the aspect of 
madness in the eyes of his family. The old woman 
who has worked all the mischief by her untimely 
revelation is most of all distressed. It was by no 
means her purpose to drag her son down from his high 
estate ; so she manages to abstract from its envelope 
the letter proving her story, replaces it with a blank 
sheet of paper and then dies. The result is that 
when Lorenzo, to prove his sanity, produces the letter 
behold ! it is no letter at all; and while the others 
conclude that the whole thing was a hallucination, 
he himself, in his overwrought condition, furiously 
accuses his wife and friends of conspiring against him. 
The play ends in his being led off to a madhouse, 
his daughter alone clinging to her belief in his sanity. 
Thus, out of threadbare melodramatic materials, 
Echegaray has woven a psychological tragedy of great 
intensity. And he is an actors' poet. He always 
sees his scenes in action, and gives his actors every 
possible opportunity. His great parts, indeed, such 
as Julian, Ernest, Lazaro, Lorenzo, call for a volcanic 
fervour, a hysterical impetuosity, quite foreign to the 
northern temperament. That is probably the reason 
why these magnificent acting parts have not as yet 
attracted any leading English or American actor. 
But I own it surprises me that Salvini has never 



adc-ed such a part as Don Lorenzo to his repertory. 
Mariana, as aforesaid, is of these four plays the one 
in which the author's peculiarities appear with least 
exaggeration. How its Spanish colouring may strike 
an English audience it is impossible to predict. But 
I am much mistaken if we do not feel ourselves face 
to face with a dramatist who may be a little anti- 
quated in his methods (he would be no Spaniard 
else), but whose passion and poetry are in their way 




As a subscriber to the as yet anonymous Fund,* to 
which we owe the production of Little Eyolf, and 
which promises us John Gabriel Borkman and 
Admiral Guinea, I have been present to-day (Friday, 
February igth) at a dress-rehearsal of Echegaray's 
Mariana, a romantic love-tragedy in modern dress, 
very happily interposed (to my thinking) between the 
two Ibsen plays. Until a play is brought face to face 
with the actual public, it is impossible for any one to 
predict its effect. In France, where a dress-rehearsal 
before an invited audience is a recognised institution, 
* Afterwards known as the New Century Theatre. 

"MARIANA." 51 

the auguries of the repetition gen'erale^ whether for 
good or ill, are often flatly contradicted at the pretniere. 
Thus I cannot even guess how Mariana^ as an acted 
play, will strike the critics and the public ; but I know 
very well how, as a piece of dramatic literature, it- 
struck me when I read it years ago, and how it again 
impressed me when I saw it acted to-day by Mr. H. 
B. Irving, Miss Elizabeth Robins, and their comrades. 
It has certainly one of the marks of great literature 
it bears the test of familiarity. 

"Romantic love-tragedy" is the exact description 
of Mariana. It is a love-story, pure and simple. It 
deals with no social problem, no ethical dilemma, no 
general idea of any sort, political, philosophical, or 
moral. There is no symbolism in it and no thesis. 
It preaches nothing and teaches nothing. It exists 
for no other purpose than to show how wonderful and 
terrible a thing is love. " But hold ! " says the reader. 
"Surely you are describing, not Mariana^ but Romeo 
and Juliet" The truth is, I am describing both. 
Mariana is of the family of Romeo and Jiiliet one 
might almost say its nearest living relative. Love, 
indeed, is the motive, or a motive, in most plays, but 
it is usually complicated by all sorts of other matters. 
Even in the plays which come under the simple 
formula " two lovers and an obstacle," the interest, as 
often as not, resides rather in the obstacle than in the 
lovers, or at least in the general considerations to 


which the obstacle gives rise. A common obstacle 
is caste-prejudice and difference of station: another, 
almost equally common, is great wealth on the lady's 
side, deterring a poor and high-minded suitor. In 
Mr. Jones's Michael* the obstacle was a sacerdotal 
ideal of celibacy; in Mr. Pinero's Profligate it was the 
past life of the lover. In all such cases there is a 
moral or casuistical interest in the .obstacle. Ought 
fond hearts to be more than coronets? Ought a 
poor man to accept wealth at the hands of his wife ? 
Ought an inward vow of celibacy to bind action when 
it can no longer bind impulse? Ought a "good 
woman " to insist on similar and equal " goodness " 
in the man to whom she gives her life ? Upon our 
instinctive answer to these questions depends our 
sympathy with the lovers, our interest in their fate. 
But in Romeo and Juliet and in Mariana no such 
questions arise; the interest resides wholly and solely 
in the beauty, the intensity, and the tragic issues of 
the passion represented; and that is why I call these 
two plays love-tragedies in a peculiar and eminent 
sense. The Montague-Capulet vendetta, which is the 
obstacle in Romeo and Juliet, raises no moral question 
whatever. No one but a German professor ever 
dreamed of blaming or praising the lovers for ignoring 
it. We feel that they have no choice; that their 
passio/i is their destiny. The beauty, and nobility, 
* Theatrical World of 1896, p. 16. 

"MARIANA." 53 

and awe of the thing lie precisely in the sense that we 
are beyond the sphere of will, of morality, and that 
these two creatures of air and fire are the playthings 
of elemental forces crossed by inauspicious stars. So, 
too, with Mariana and Daniel; it is their love simply 
as love that appeals to us and moves us. There is 
nothing to approve, condemn, or even discuss in their 
conduct. They love, under circumstances which, to 
one -of them at least, make happiness in love im- 
possible; and as they cannot live without love, they die. 

It needed an out-and-out romanticist to handle 
such a theme. Jose Echegaray is a romanticist of 
the original stock, not of the collateral or Gallic 
branch of the family. He descends in a right line 
from Lope and Calderon; he is closely akin to our 
own Elizabethans, and claims but a distant cousinship 
with the Parisian romantics of 1830. His technique 
he has borrowed, in the main, from the realists; but 
he is too impulsive to be a scrupulous technician. 
It is clear that he works more by instinct than by 
reflection ; but he has a splendid instinct for the three 
essential elements of drama character, passion, 
situation and he flings characters and situations 
upon the scene with the prodigal facility, but also 
with the energy and conviction, of an earlier age. 

The strength of Mariana, to my thinking, lies not 
so much in Mariana herself as in Daniel. Mariana 
is a complex and admirable creation, but she is not 


unique, even on the modern stage; whereas Daniel 
stands alone among lovers. He is passion itself, 
passion incarnate. Echegaray has the romanticist's 
love for dealing in prodigies; his Ernesto in El gran 
Galeoto and Lazaro in El Hijo de Don Juan are 
magnificent geniuses from the first. Daniel is nothing 
of the sort; he is a quite commonplace, simple-minded 
young man. It is love, and love alone, that lends 
him poetry, eloquence, genius. There is no art in 
his wooing; it is even touchingly artless; its strength 
lies in its intense, overwhelming sincerity. He has 
this advantage over Romeo himself, that he has a 
certain amount of resistance to overcome. 'Mariana 
loves him from the first it would be a mistake to 
interpret her coquetry otherwise but the experiences 
of her childhood and girlhood, which she relates with 
such exquisite pathos in the second act, have made 
her shrink from love and cling desperately to her 
liberty of heart. Thus Daniel, during the first two 
acts, has to battle with a deep-seated dread, veiling 
itself in coquetry and sometimes in deliberate cruelty. 
She is ten times as clever and quick-witted as he; she 
is mistress of all the arts which he hates and despises. 
But what is that to him ? He seizes on her irony and 
sends it back to her palpitating with conviction; her 
lightest jest awakens reverberations that awe and 
subdue her; when she wounds him, he makes a 
weapon of his sufferings. You cannot fence with a 


thunder-storm; the bright steel of Mariana's wit only 
brings down upon her the lightning of his passion. 
At the end of the second act she confesses herself 
vanquished; and at this point I rather fear that 
inattentive spectators may feel their interest flag for 
want of a clearer prevision of what is to follow. It 
may be a mistake, or it may be a justified audacity on 
Echegaray's part, to leave the audience so long in the 
dark as to the true nature of the barrier between the 
lovers. There can be no doubt that it heightens the 
interest of the third act, in which the scene of the 
Mexican pendent is, in a lower order of art, extra- 
ordinarily ingenious and effective. I shall respect 
Echegaray's reticence, and only say that at the end 
of this act it appears quite clearly that, though there 
is no formal or legal barrier between Mariana and 
Daniel, and although they themselves are innocent 
of all wrong, it is impossible for a woman of her 
sensitive imagination to be happy in his love " the 
daughter cannot drink the dregs of her mother's 
shame." Therefore she seeks to raise an insuperable 
wall between them; but "stony limits cannot hold 
love out."' In spite of her horror of the name he 
bears, in spite of the formal bond she has now con- 
tracted, "her heart goes out of her body to Daniel." 
They cannot love each other, and they cannot live 
without each other's love; so she deliberately calls 
down death upon their heads. There is no more 


poignant scene in modern drama than this fourth act 
of Mariana. 

That delightful comedy, Rosemary* seems to have 
taken a new lease of life at the Criterion.! Last 
Thursday night the fifth night of its reproduction 
I found a full house enjoying it to the top of their 
bent. And I myself enjoyed it even more than when 
I saw it first. It is a most amiable piece of humour 
and sentiment, delicately written and admirably acted. 
Mr. Wyndham is as good as ever; Miss Mary Moore 
and Miss Carlotta Addison are charmingly old- 
fashioned; Mr. Alfred Bishop caricatures the irascible 
Captain, to the huge delight of the audience, and Mr. 
Barnes, as the Professor, is quiet, artistic, and excel- 
lent. Mr. A. E. George replaces Mr. Welch as the 
postboy, and Miss Mary Jocelyn is remarkably clever 
as Priscilla. 

Sentimental realism is the note of Mrs. Oscar 
Beringer's little play, A Bit of Old Chelsea,\ which 
precedes Sweet Nancy at trte Court. It is clever, 
amusing, not entirely pleasant. The young artist who 
befriends the flower-girl makes a great deal too much 
of his own chivalry, and pats himself on the back 
obtrusively and unnecessarily because he refrains from 

* Theatrical World of 1896, p. 156. 
t February 13 March 20 (igand performance). 
% February 8 May 8. Reproduced at the Royalty, October 
5 November 20. 


converting an impulse of hospitality into an act of 
blackguardism. The passage about the flowers and 
the Bible struck me as singularly false and unpleasing. 
Still, the play is much above the average of first 
pieces, and, being very cleverly acted by Miss Annie 
Hughes, Mr. Edmund Maurice, and Mr. Martin 
Harvey, is well worth seeing. Its title is curiously 
inapt. It is in reality a sort of counterpart or com- 
panion piece to The Man in the Street; but a title 
which should indicate this might doubtless be open 
to misunderstanding. 

. VIII. 


yd March. 

IT is on record that Colonel Newcome read Caesar 
and Tacitus "with a translation, sir, with a transla- 
tion." My acquaintance with the Greek dramatists 
is even more distant : I have to read (for instance) 
Hookham Frere without Aristophanes. Whether 
this is an advantage or a disadvantage to a spectator 
of the O.U.D.S. performances, I must leave the 
learned to decide. All I can say is that I keenly 
enjoyed the Knights last Saturday afternoon ; whereas 
it is conceivable that persons familiar with Aristo- 
phanes and with Greek prosody might have found 


certain drawbacks to their enjoyment. What little 
Greek there ever was in my mind has evaporated 
years ago ; but it has left a sparse sediment of roots 
and vocables, just sufficient to enable me, with the 
aid of an interleaved crib, to follow the recitation 
and know where the actors are. Taken in this 
way, and regarded simply as an extravaganza in the 
abstract, the Knights is highly entertaining. How 
far the actors realised the poet's intention in their 
embodiment of the different characters, I cannot even 
guess; but several of them displayed unmistakable 
comic talent, and the stage-management was inventive, 
spirited, and amusing. The Chorus was perhaps 
the weak point. It is necessarily less picturesque 
than that of the Birds ; but a little more care 
might with advantage have been expended on its 
costuming and wigging. The Knights looked rather 
like the classic heroes depicted by a schoolboy on 
the fly-leaf of his grammar spirited, but out of 
drawing. They fell between the two stools of 
grotesqueness and grace. So long as they rode (or 
wore) their hobby-horses, they were naturally gro- 
tesque enough; but when they dismounted, they 
were only unintentionally comic. It struck me, too, 
that if they could not, as Dick Swiveller would phrase 
it, " do the light fantastic," they might at least have 
attempted "the mazy." A little more movement and 
evolution would have given life to the picture, and 


might, moreover, have taken the rough edge off their 
singing. Of the individual actors the least successful, 
to my mind, were the Demosthenes and Nicias. 
Demosthenes, I take it, should have been a burlier, 
more highly-coloured personage, and Nicias more 
varied and perhaps less abject in his timidity and 
superstition. The same performers (Mr. F. Stevens 
and Mr. A. N. Tayler) played Lucentio and Gremio 
in The Taming of the Shrew very cleverly indeed, but 
they made (or left) the opening scene of the Knights 
a trifle dull. The Sausage-Seller, on the other hand 
(Mr. H. M. M. Woodward), proved himself a genuine 
comedian in the first five minutes, and was vastly 
entertaining throughout. If he lacked anything, it 
was volubility. There was more stolidity than effron- 
tery in his acting. Perhaps he would be even better 
as Bottom or Bardolph than as the Sausage-Seller; 
but a genuine comedian he is, beyond a doubt. The 
Cleon (Mr. P. A. Rubens) played with excellent 
vigour and conviction, and with a good deal of 
dramatic instinct. He was justly applauded in the 
passage of burlesque tragedy at the close, where 
(like Macbeth) he learns that the oracles on which 
he relies in reality make for his .adversary. The 
thwacking and buffeting he undergoes at the hands 
of the Chorus were surely overdone. The text, 
indeed, suggests something of the sort ; but if Cleon 
is to be so pitilessly mauled at the outset, the effect 


of his final overthrow is discounted. Demos was 
conceived by Mr. L. R. F. Oldershaw in an eccentric 
and niggling rather than a broadly comic spirit, but 
the performance was clever in its way. The mounting 
was simple but beautiful, and the musical setting, by 
the Rev. F. W. Bussell, was at least ingenious in its 
in-weaving of popular airs. What an amazing state 
must that have been in which such an onslaught was 
possible upon a man who was at the same time so 
powerful that the mask-makers feared to represent 
his features ! It would be affectation to envy the 
Athenians their licence of scurrility; but are we 
never to find a middle course between that and the 
imbecility of current extravaganza ? 

Necessarily less interesting than the Knights, The 
Taming of the Shrew was scarcely less creditable. 
I have already mentioned the Lucentio of Mr. F. 
Stevens, which was a really graceful and charming 
performance. I do not know that I ever saw the 
part better played. Mr. P. Comyns Carr made a 
capital Petruchio. He is as yet rather a light-weight 
for the character, but acted with ample spirit and 
discretion. Mr. A. R. Mackintosh was a quietly 
amusing Grumio, and Viscount Suirdale showed a 
good conception of Christopher Sly, though he 
played it far too slowly. Miss Marion Morris was 
really clever as Katharina, and Miss Mabel Terry 
Lewis made an agreeable Bianca. 


Of The Macffaggis* by Messrs. Jerome and Phill- 
potts, produced last week at the Globe Theatre, only 
one thing need be recorded, and that is that Mr. 
Weedon Grossmith is exceedingly funny in it. The 
story is simply delirious but Mr. Grossmith is funny. 
The part of Eweretta is ugly and repulsive but Mr. 
Grossmith is funny. The authors have hashed up 
Ireland with their so-called Scotland in this quite 
indigestible haggis but Mr. Grossmith is funny. 
Charley's Aunt is a work of coherent inventive 
genius in comparison with this sheer tomfoolery, 
which bears no sort of relation to life and never 
deviates into common-sense but Mr. Grossmith is 
funny. As the piece goes on, he becomes extremely 
and excruciatingly funny; and as he is not one of 
the self-sufficient buffoons who require no material 
to work upon, it is to be presumed that he is in some 
measure indebted to the authors' invention for the 
effects he produces. He is well supported, especially 
by Mr. H. Reeves Smith, Mr. George Shelton, and 
Miss Beatrice Ferrar. Mr. Blake Adams's Scotch 
accent (Lowland, not Highland) is so unimpeachable 
that it is strange he should not rebel against the 
amazing vocabulary the authors place in his mouth. 

The statement that I " conducted " the rehearsals 
of Echegaray's Mariana\ at the Court Theatre is 

* February 25 April 24. 

t February 22 26 (afternoon performances). 


ludicrously wide of the truth. Heaven help any 
rehearsals "conducted" by me! Modern stage- 
management is as complex and difficult as chess- 
playing, and I never had any head for chess it is 
not my affair. Still, I saw so much of the prepara- 
tions for the performance that, under ordinary 
circumstances, I should scarcely think myself justified 
in criticising it. I have generally abstained from 
more than a formal mention of such pieces of acting 
as I have watched in the process of growth. But in 
this case I feel it impossible to confine myself to curt 
phrases of compliment, however sincere. In very 
different ways, the Daniel of Mr. H. B. Irving and 
the Mariana of Miss Elizabeth Robins seem to me 
to call for the most serious attention that criticism 
can bestow. When a new actor of unmistakable 
power and passion springs suddenly to the front, the 
event is not one to be passed over in a stereotyped 
sentence. Hitherto we have known Mr. Irving as a 
young man of picturesque appearance and promising 
intelligence, but have had no opportunity of really 
estimating his powers. In Daniel he saw his chance, 
and he seized it. The part, as I said last week, is 
a superb one, but exceedingly trying for a man of 
northern race. There is scarcely an actor on the 
stage none, certainly, of his own generation who 
could have played it with half the fire and vitality 
that Mr. Irving threw into it. Many critics, I note, 

" MARIANA." 63 

have called his acting "undisciplined." They are 
right enough ; Mr. Irving has still a good deal to 
learn in the way of self-control and mastery of his 
means. But what a thing it is, in these days, to find 
an actor with any real passion to "discipline"! an 
actor who can let himself go, even if he cannot 
always hold himself in ! Most of our stage-lovers 
can do that to perfection, and nothing else. Mr. 
Irving's voice is at once his strength and his weak- 
ness. It is a fine, resonant organ, but as yet it lacks 
tenderness and flexibility. These qualities will doubt- 
less come in time, for Mr. Irving is an earnest worker; 
and, in any case, he has shown that behind his hand- 
some presence, and gallant if not graceful bearing, 
there lie depths of genuine feeling and a true power 
of imaginative self-abandonment. The stage stands 
sadly in need of new blood with a little warmth in it ; 
and here it has found what it wanted. 

It has been my good fortune to work with Miss 
Elizabeth Robins in the preparation of five or six of 
Ibsen's plays, in which her performances have given 
me the keenest pleasure. But Ibsen stands by 
himself. To an actress of sympathetic intelligence 
he offers such unique opportunities that it is hard to 
bring her work into perspective, and see it in its true 
relation to the general work of the stage. Thus I 
have never been able quite to "place" Miss Robins 
among her fellow-artists. Outside the Ibsen circle, 


she had shown (in Karin, for example) a rare and 
admirable gift of pathos ; but in dealing with 
commonplace parts she was apt to appear to less 
advantage than more commonplace actresses. After 
Mariana, I have no longer any doubt where to place 
her. This is far from a commonplace part, indeed; 
but neither is it a creation of super-subtilised thought 
and feeling, like Ibsen's Hedda or Hilda or Rebecca. 
It is not one of the parts which demand a peculiar 
intellectual equipment, and give what may almost be 
called an unfair advantage to such artists as happen 
to possess that equipment. In playing it, Miss 
Robins was measuring herself with the general run 
of emotional actresses, from Eleonora Duse down- 
wards; and it seemed to me that her performance 
placed her very high in the scale. It was not flawless; 
there were subsidiary passages, minor transitions, 
individual phrases, which the actress had not per- 
fectly worked out. The first act especially, though 
full of beautiful touches, was not quite fused into a 
convincing whole. But from the beginning of the 
second act onwards the flaws were few and far 
between, and the beauties varied and manifold. The 
scene in which Mariana tells Don Felipe the story of 
her mother's life and her own showed not only Miss 
Robins's exceptional gift of pathos, but also a rare 
talent of composition and diction. It was not only 
finely inspired but admirably accomplished acting. 

" MARIANA." 65 

In the remaining scenes of the second and third acts, 
the actress kept well up to this high level ; but here 
the great effects really belong, not to Mariana, but to 
Daniel. It was in the last act that Miss Robins 
achieved her great and decisive triumph. Her acting 
was no longer merely "emotional," but tragic in the 
highest sense of the word. Throughout that magnifi- 
cent scene she let slip no finest shade of Mariana's 
agony of soul. Her dignity of action, her variety, 
intensity, and justness of expression, were beyond all 
praise. She seemed to live the scene rather than 
to act it ; and yet every motion and intonation was 
informed and controlled by vigilant art. It was a 
great opportunity, and Miss Robins rose to it greatly. 
The other parts were more than sufficiently in some 
cases excellently filled. Mr. Herman Vezin's tact 
and refinement, Mr. Edward O'Neill's impassive 
sternness, Mr. James Welch's garrulity, and Mr. 
Martin Harvey's frivolity, all contributed greatly to 
the general effect. Miss Beverley Sitgreaves and 
Miss Mary Keegan were good in small parts, and 
even Mr. George Bancroft and Miss Mabel Hackney, 
as the two servants, contrived to make something of 
their little scene. 




ivth March. 

MR. Louis CALVERT has chosen for his second 
Shakespearian season at the Queen's Theatre, Man- 
chester, the greatest, in some respects, of .Shake- 
speare's historical plays, Antony and Cleopatra. This 
was a harder task than his last year's venture, the 
first part of Henry IV.* The play is considerably 
looser in structure, and therefore calls for more 
skilful curtailment; the style is far more compressed 
and difficult, with frequent passages of that intellectual 
shorthand to which Shakespeare became more and 
more addicted as years went on ; and the two leading 
characters present much more complex problems to 
the actors than the straightforward rhetorical per- 
sonages of the English chronicle-play. It would be 
too much to say that Mr. Calvert has grappled quite 
as successfully with the world-historic as with the 
national theme; but he has made a more than 
creditable effort, and, so far as popular appreciation 
goes, he has met with a generous reward. Though 
the play has now run three weeks no inconsiderable 
run in a provincial city the theatre on Saturday 
night was crowded and overcrowded. It was a 
* Theatrical World of 1896, p. 29. 


pleasure to see how intently the vast concourse 
of people followed the unfolding of the vivid and 
majestic action. Mr. Calvert, as a stage-manager, 
has that art of making Shakespeare live and breathe 
which is so often conspicuous by its absence from 
our more sumptuous metropolitan solemnities. One 
may guess with tolerable assurance that this pro- 
duction has not cost one-fifth part of the money 
expended on Mrs. Langtry's revival of the play at 
the Princess's some years ago; but it is certainly 
five times as vital and interesting. Not that money 
has been spared; considering that the prices at the 
Queen's Theatre range from three shillings to six- 
pence, one can only wonder at the completeness of 
the costumes, accessories, and scenic effects. But 
Mr. Calvert is much more bent on enchaining the 
attention than on dazzling the eyes; and in this, with 
the help of Miss Janet Achurch and a company full 
of intelligent pleasure in their work, he succeeds to 

The text presented is in the main that arranged by 
the late Charles Calvert for his revival in 1866. In 
the earlier acts the excisions and rearrangements 
are not immoderate, and on the whole judicious; but 
in the closing scenes the pruning-knife is much 
too freely used. It is especially disastrous to 
run together Act III. Sc. n and Act IV. Sc. 2. 
This deprives both Antony and Cleopatra of one of 


their greatest effects the rekindling of hope, courage, 
and passion in the midst of disaster and actually 
docks Cleopatra of the lines which are perhaps, from 
the theatrical point of view, the most effective in the 
whole play : 

" It is my birthday : 

I had thought to have held it poor; but since my lord 

Is Antony again, I will be Cleopatra ! " 

As it is, no sooner has Antony said 

" Fill our bowls : once more 
Let's mock the midnight bell," 

than his mood sinks again and he goes off into the 
elegiac strain of the farewell address to his servants, 
which, in Shakespeare, belongs to another day and 
scene. This is a pitiful anticlimax. In the last 
scene of all, again, which includes the substance of 
Shakespeare's Act IV. Sc. 13 and Act V. Sc. 2, a 
striking and really imaginative scenic effect is 
attained, but at far too great a sacrifice of the 
text, and especially of the part of Cleopatra. I 
am not purist enough to object to the arrangement 
by which Antony's body remains to the end at the 
foot of Cleopatra's throne; nay, I positively applaud 
it, and appreciate the effects attained by the simple 
shrouding and uncovering of his face. But if these 
effects necessarily involve the excision of some of 
Cleopatra's very greatest speeches, then I say they are 


too dearly bought. Nothing can atone for the sacrifice 
of such lines as these : 

"Ah women, women ! look, 

Our lamp is spent, it's out. Good sirs, take heart; 
We'll bury him ; and then, what's brave, what's noble, 
Let's do it after the high Roman fashion, 
And make death proud to take us ; " 

or these : 

" I dreamt there was an Emperor Antony ! 
O, such another sleep, that I might see 
But such another man ! " 

or, again, these : 

" Nay, 'tis most certain, Iras. Saucy lictors 
Will catch at us, like wantons; and scald rhymers 
Ballad us out o' tune : the quick comedians 
Extemporally will stage us, and present 
Our Alexandrian revels. Antony 
Shall be brought drunken forth, and I shall see 
Some squeaking Cleopatra boy my greatness." 

These and several other passages ought certainly to 
be restored. That done, I, for my part, should 
admire without scruple or reserve the no less 
poetical than pictorial impressiveness of the final 
scene. The entrance of Augustus is of truly mag- 
nificent effect; we seem to breathe the essential air 
of this great epoch; and it is a fine tact which 


brings down the curtain on the phrase: "And 
then to Rome!" 

Mr. Calvert's Antony is rugged, forcible, and 
effective. It lacks elevation, and is not very strong 
in diction; but it has plenty of impetuosity and 
vitality. Cleopatra is perhaps the most overwhelming 
character in all drama not, indeed, the most difficult 
to art, but the most impossible to be. The imagina- 
tion of ages has dwelt upon this woman until it has 
not so much idealised as deified her. Not Helen 
herself has assumed in our thoughts such super- 
human proportions. In defiance of reason and 
even of history, we endue her with the greatness 
of her great lovers. 

" Did I, Charmian, 
Ever love Cresar so ? " 

is a terrible phrase to live up to; and yet the greatest 
of her lovers was not Caesar, not Pompey, not Antony, 
but the man who said of her : 

" Age cannot wither her, nor custom stale 
Her infinite variety," 

and who put on her dying lips such incomparable 
words as : 

" Show me, my women, like a queen : go fetch 
My best attires; I am again for Cydmts, 
To meet Mark Antony" 

How simple they are how obvious, one might almost 


say and yet how utterly beyond the reach of any 
other poet than Shakespeare ! As the actress spoke 
them on Saturday night, they took me by the throat, 
as it were, with a sense of absolute beauty and 
miraculous fitness that comes only with the greatest 
things in literature. To say, then, that Miss Achurch 
is not the Cleopatra of the imagination is only to say 
that she is human. But I think she might, in the 
earlier acts, come nearer the ideal, if she would seize 
upon the poetry of the part, and let the comedy take 
care of itself. It is true that there is warrant, and 
more than warrant, in the text for all her comedy, 
except one or two touches of by-play which seem to 
me founded on verbal misconceptions. It is true 
that the actor who " boy'd her greatness " in Shake- 
speare's own day probably went much further than 
Miss Achurch in the direction of the ludicrous. But 
just because this side of the part is so plainly marked, 
I think a modern actress would do well to lay no 
unnecessary stress upon it, and to concentrate her 
thoughts on the dignity, the fascination in a word, 
the poetry of the character. Miss Achurch seemed 
to me quite at her best in the last act, where she gave 
a haggard nobility to the figure of the dying Queen 
that was original and memorable. Some of her 
emphases she should either study more or not so 
much; they are either unconsidered or paradoxical. 
Why, for instance, should Cleopatra say 


" I am fire and air; my other elements 
I give to baser life " 

as though it were likely that she should sell or lease 
them ? And finally I implore Miss Achurch not to 
be led astray by a mere misprint in the ordinary 
editions, but to follow the Folio and the metre 

and say 

" Rather make 
My country's high pyramided my gibbet." 

"Pyramids" is impossible. The effect of this scene, 
by the way, would be heightened if the Clown who 
brings the asps were made a frankly comic personage. 
Shakespeare knew what he was about in introducing 
this grim jester. Among the subordinate characters, 
those which struck me most were the Octavius Caesar 
of Mr. G. F. Black, a very able performance, and the 
curiously devoted and almost dog-like Iras of Miss 
Maria Fauvet. 



Westminster Gazette, i6th March. 
MR. MEREDITH'S Essay on Comedy may without 

* An Essay on Comedy and the Uses of the Comic Spirit. By 
George Meredith. (Westminster: Archibald Constable & Co. 


hesitation be set down as one of the subtlest, wittiest, 
and most luminous pieces of criticism in the English 
language. It has lain twenty years in the files of a 
forgotten magazine, and now comes to most of us 
to me for one as an unexpected and delightful gift. 
I wish I had known it all these twenty years; it would 
have been a thing of light and leading to me. Per- 
haps, however, its long eclipse has been providential. 
Perhaps it was the Muse of Comedy herself that 
hid it away in 1877, an< 3 prompted its resuscitation in 
1897, when we are riper, if not for Comedy according 
to the critic's definition, at any rate for the appre- 
ciation of " fine shades and nice feelings " in dramatic 
art. If a play of Menander's were to be unearthed 
in the archives of some Russian or Spanish monastery, 
we should rejoice in it all the more for its unex- 
pectedness; and similarly the feeling that this little 
gem of criticism "was lost and is found" gives an' 
added zest to our pleasure in it. 

The Comic Spirit, according to Mr. Meredith, is 
"the first-born of common sense," "the genius of 
thoughtful laughter." It hovers over civilised society, 
"luminous and watchful." 

" It has the sage's brows, and the sunny malice of a faun lurks 
at the corners of the half-closed lips, drawn in an idle wariness 
of half tension. . . . Men's future upon earth does not attract 
it : their honesty and shapeliness in the present does ; and when- 
ever they wax out of proportion, overblown, affected, pretentious, 


bombastical, hypocritical, pedantic, fantastically delicate ; 
whenever it sees them self-deceived or hoodwinked, given to 
run riot in idolatries, drifting into vanities, congregating in 
absurdities, planning short - sightedly, plotting dementedly ; 
whenever they are at variance with their professions, and violate 
the unwritten but perceptible laws binding them in considera- 
tion one to another ; whenever they offend sound reason, fair 
justice ; are false in humility or mined with conceit, individually 
or in the bulk the Spirit overhead will look humanely malign, 
and cast an oblique light on them, followed by volleys of silvery 
laughter. That is the Comic Spirit." 

Comedy is essentially distinct, according to this defini- 
tion, from Satire, from Irony, which is " the humour 
of satire," and from Humour itself, which " embraces 
contrasts beyond the scope of the Comic poet." 

" Byron had splendid powers of humour and the most poetic 
satire that we have example of, fusing at times to hard irony. 
He had no strong comic sense, or he would not have taken an 
anti-social position, which is directly opposed to the Comic." 

In such passages as these Mr. Meredith seems practi- 
cally to identify the Comic Spirit with that regulative 
or restrictive Sense of Humour on which we are all so 
apt to plume ourselves. This faculty is essentially 
critical, and has scarcely anything in common with 
creative Humour; so that there have been great 
humorists of whom it might without paradox be said 
that they had no sense of humour, in our peculiar 
acceptation of the term. Says Mr. Meredith : 


" If the Comic idea prevailed with us, and we had an Aristo- 
phanes to barb and wing it, we should be breathing air of 
Athens. . . . There would be a bright and positive, clear 
Hellenic perception of facts. The vapours of Unreason and 
Sentimentalism would be blown away before they were -pro- 
ductive. Where would Pessimist and Optimist be? They 
fwould, in any case, have a diminished audience." 

In a thousand such delicate touches of exposition 
and discrimination, Mr. Meredith stipples in, as it 
were, his conception of the Comic Spirit. It is 
neither scornful nor brutal, neither cynical nor in- 
human. "A perception of the Comic Spirit gives 
high fellowship. You become a citizen of the selecter 
world. . . . Look there for your unchallengeable 
upper class ! . . . Sensitiveness to the comic laugh is 
a step in civilisation. To shrink from being an object 
of it is a step in cultivation." 

Here, however, one cannot but pause and reflect. 
/For my part, I am all anxiety to be a citizen of the 
selecter world, and a member of the unchallengeable 
upper class ; but if it be one of the statutes of this 
freemasonry that one must " shrink from being an 
object of the comic laugh," I despair of becoming an 
adept / Not but what I "shrink" with ready instinct; 
the trouble is that in many cases I am heartily 
ashamed of so doing. This proves, no doubt, that an 
incorrigible Sentimentalist lurks somewhere in my 
composition ; but even if, by prayer and fasting, I 


cast him out, could I any the more reasonably hope 
to avoid being an actual or potential " object of the 
comic laugh " ? And where the matter is so hopeless, 
would not common sense counsel one rather to over- 
come the instinctive shrinking than to regard it as 
" a step in cultivation " ? He was a profound (though i 
hapless) philosopher who said, "Vulgarity is the 
behaviour of other people " ; and if we substitute 
"comicality" for "vulgarity," the epigram suffers, 
but the truth remains. It is scarcely a mark of 
sanity to believe, or even hope, that one is fault- 
lessly sane; and if the Comic Spirit ever broadens 
its " finely tempered smile " into a sardonic grin, it 
is perhaps in contemplating the man who believes 
himself exempt from its animadversions. 

Mr. Meredith is at his best in his rapid flash-light 
survey (the paper was originally a lecture) of the 
comic poets. The ideal " comic poet," according to 
this critic, is a very rare bird ; he does not hesitate to 
say, "We count him during centuries in the singular 
number." The centuries he has in mind are those of 
modern literature, and the solitary poet is, of course, 
Moliere. A finer and juster panegyric of Moliere than 
that which runs through this whole essay is nowhere 
known to me. For the English comedy of manners 
Mr. Meredith has scant tolerance. He riddles it 
with epigrams. It is "comedy of the manners of 
South Sea islanders under City veneer." Its realism 


is crass and primitive ; and " it is unwholesome for 
men and women to see themselves as they are, if they 
are no better than they should be." Congreve's style 
he admires, the poise of his sentences ; and he takes 
off his hat to Millamant Otherwise he will have 
little to say to our " blowsy Hoyden" of a Comic Muse. 
Even She Stoops to Conquer he writes down, perhaps 
not quite happily, " an elegant farce." I should 
rather call it an inelegant comedy ; but the difference 
is merely verbal. Mr. Meredith's brilliant passage 
on Aristophanes I can only commend to the atten- 
tion of scholars; suggesting, with all diffidence, a 
doubt as to whether he may not have over-estimated, 
not his genius, but his wisdom. German "attempts 
at comedy " remind Mr. Meredith of " Heine's image 
of his country in the dancing of Atta Troll." Heine 
himself "has not been enough to cause his com- 
patriots to smart and meditate. Nationally, as well 
as individually, when they are excited they are in 
danger of the grotesque." But surely (apart from a 
possible application near home) these words apply 
even more directly to the countrymen of Moliere 
than to the countrymen of Goethe. Gregarious folly 
takes no account of frontiers, and flouts the Comic 
Spirit in every language under the sun. 

One could wish that Mr. Meredith had said more 
of the relation between the comedy of types and the 
comedy of individual character. He has himself 


drawn the great type-figure of modern fiction I 
mean, of course, The Egoist fusing, in that master- 
piece, the two methods of art, and making of a 
colossal type a complete individual. Has it ever 
occurred to Mr. Meredith that the decline, not to say 
the impossibility, of pure comedy on the modern stage 
is due to the fact that the broad types are exhausted, 
and that individuals, if they live at all, touch our 
sympathies so nearly as to interfere with the free play 
of the Comic Spirit? It may be too much to say 
that the types are exhausted ; but in any case the 
centring of all attention upon one vice or foible 
strikes us, in modern drama, as an expedient of farce. 
(Mr. Meredith, by the way, does not mention Labiche, 
who, with all his extravagance of action, was surely 
impregnated with the comic spirit.) I am inclined, 
however, to foresee a revival of pure comedy (as dis- 
tinct from farce on the one hand and drama on the 
other) so soon as we shall have got over that itch for 
action and intrigue with which Scribe inoculated us. 
We are gradually expelling it from our blood ; but it 
takes time. Fancy Le Misanthrope or Les famines 
Savantes produced for the first time before an 
audience of to-day ! How the critics would cluster 
together in the entr'actes and button-hole each other 
to explain that "there's no action," that "nothing 
happens," that "we don't get any forr'ader," that 
" it's all talkee-talkee," and so on through the whole 


litany ! Which of us, I wonder, would pluck up heart 
to cry, like the legendary man in the pit, " Courage, 
Moli^re ! Voila la bonne comedie ! " 




ADAPTED by Mr. Burnand from La Flamboyante, and 
entitled Saucy Sally* the new farce at the Comedy 
Theatre places me in an awkward dilemma. I 
laughed at it- very much ; I think, as things go, it 
thoroughly deserves to succeed, and I have every 
wish to lend it a helping hand; yet I can find 
nothing to say of it that does not sound disparaging. 
Every question you can ask about it, except one, I 
must answer to its disadvantage. Is it novel ? Not 
in the least ; the idea is as old as the hills ; we met 
it last in The Prodigal Father, now running at the 
Strand. Is it ingenious ? Why, no ; it replaces 
ingenuity by sheer effrontery ; I can remember 
nothing more audacious in farce than the appear- 
ance in the second act of a real " Saucy Sally " with 
a real Captain Jocelyn, unless it be the coincidence 
which brings Mrs. Jocelyn and her mother, in the 
third act, to Cecile's apartments. Is it witty? Oh 
* March 10 June 5. Reproduced July 26 August 20. 


dear, no; there is not a single line in the dialogue 
that any human being would care to remember ; the 
best one can say of it is that Mr. Burnand has 
heroically abstained from puns and word-plays. Is 
it edifying? Quite the reverse; Mr. Burnand has 
thrown a very flimsy veil over the profligacy implied 
in the original plot ; and even if we close our eyes to 
the meanings that stare at us through this veil, the 
piece remains one long apotheosis of imperturbable 
mendacity. Where, then, does its merit come in? 
Upon my word, I haven't the slightest idea. But if 
you ask me, finally, "Is it amusing?" I can only 
reply, "Yes, very amusing, and, with all its reckless 
irresponsibility, not base or offensive. Go and see it 
if you want a good laugh, and don't mind holding 
both your common sense and your moral sense in 
temporary abeyance." The real merit, of course, lies 
in the acting. Mr. Hawtrey finds in Herbert Jocelyn 
the biggest liar in his whole brazen gallery, and is 
therefore quite delightful. One may call him, 
without paradox, a story-teller in whom there is no 
guile. Mr. Ernest Hendrie, as the too grateful Old 
Man of the Sea, shows a genuinely humorous 
fantasy; Mrs. Charles Calvert is most amusing 
as the disillusioned mother-in-law; Miss Jessie 
Bateman as Rosie, and Miss Maud Abbott as 
Cecile, are bright and intelligent; indeed, there is 
no part that is not cleverly filled. 


As I can find nothing praiseworthy in the concep- 
tion, construction, or writing, and nothing noteworthy 
in the acting, of The Mariners of England* by Mr. 
Robert Buchanan and "Charles Marlowe," and as, 
on the other hand, it is too puerile to call for serious 
condemnation, I prefer to pass it over in silence. It 
was certainly rather painful to see the death of 
Nelson treated as a limelit scene of vulgar melo- 
drama; but fortunately one had long ago ceased to 
associate, even in make-believe, the figure on the 
stage with the name in the playbill. 


3U/ March. 

WHATEVER else Mr. Henry Arthur Jones may or 
may not be, he is a first-rate theatrical story-teller. 
Even when his story seems inacceptable and un- 
pleasing, he does not bore us ; and when he gets a 
good story to tell, he holds us like a vice. In his new 
Criterion play, The Physician^ he has a capital story 
to tell, and tells it with really admirable skill. He 
shows no scrupulous over-refinement of technique ; 

* Olympic, March 9 April 3. 

t March 25 June 15. Followed by David Garrick, June 16 

-July 17. 



his methods are straightforward and frankly theatrical. 
He gives his hero a confidant, and he introduces an 
elaborate piece of scenic architecture so that his 
heroine may comfortably overhear a somewhat un- 
comfortable conversation. But even these things he 
does with dexterity; the confidant is decently dis- 
guised, and the eavesdropping scene is so prettily led 
up to, and, in a sense, so inevitable, as to disarm the 
veriest pedant. For the rest, the play is little short 
of a masterpiece in the art of exciting and sustaining 
interest. I echo the entreaty of the management 
that the audience should be seated before the rise of 
the curtain, for late comers will not only miss for 
their own part, but spoil for others, one of Mr. 
Jones's ablest inventions. Not many opening scenes 
in drama put one's curiosity so keenly on the alert 
as this. The classic instance of the " introductory 
chord," as Gustav Freytag calls it, is the incompar- 
able first scene of Hamlet. Mr. Jones's introductory 
chord, firmly and crisply touched, serves the same 
purpose of showing that there are ghosts abroad, and 
setting us wondering what they portend. 

Ghost-like indeed is this pale and nervous young 
man who, left alone in Dr. Lewin Carey's consulting- 
room, searches out a chapter in some medical hand- 
book, and scans it feverishly. He has refused to give 
the servant his name, but we recognise Mr. Thalberg 
and turn to the playbill : he is called Walter Amphiel. 


To him enters Dr. Brooker, Dr. Carey's friend. 
" Surely we have met before?" he says to Amphiel. 
" No, no," is the reply. " Didn't you come to 

consult me ? " 4< No, no you are mistaken. 

I must go. I shall call again and see Dr. Carey "- 
and the pallid creature takes flight. Dr. Brooker's 
eye falls on the open book ; he looks at the heading 
of the page, raises his eyebrows, and says "H'm!" 
The curtain has not been up three minutes, scarcely a 
hundred words have been spoken, and already we 
have had two sensations : the sensation of life, for the 
scene in itself is a grim little everyday drama; and 
the sensation of mystery and vaguely impending 
fate. Having thus got hold of us, the author may 
proceed at leisure to the development of character 
and circumstances. He posits the character of his 
hero, Dr. Lewin Carey, and shows how he is at a 
loose end, as it were, in his emotional life, and 
prepared to set forth in search of adventure. Be his 
character- drawing true or false, shallow or profound, 
Mr. Jones at this point takes still firmer hold on our 
interest. In fiction, at any rate, however it may be 
in life, adventures are to the adventurous, and when 
we see a man set forth in search of them, be it 
Haroun al Raschid, Don Quixote, or Prince Florizel 
of Bohemia, we know that they will make all haste to 
present themselves. And in this case our confidence 
is justified : for behold ! Miss Edana Hinde comes to 


beg for Dr. Carey's interest in the case of her 
betrothed, a young man whose enthusiastic devotion 
to the cause of temperance is killing him ; and the 
young man's name, already famous in philanthropic 
circles, is Walter Amphiel. Dr. Carey promises to 
interest himself in Mr. Amphiel, and evidently does 
interest himself deeply in Mr. Amphiel's betrothed. 
She has scarcely gone when the pallid young man of 
the first scene reappears, gives a name which is not 
famous in philanthropic circles, and consults the 
doctor on the case of " a friend " who suffers from 
intermittent attacks of uncontrollable dipsomania. 
If this is not an interesting first act interesting in 
itself and in its possibilities I know not where to 
look for one. 

The second act contains much less movement. 
Only at the very end does Dr. Carey learn that the 
lover of the saintly Edana, to whom he himself is 
by this time deeply and silently devoted, is none 
other than the miserable being who detailed to him 
the case of his "friend." Mr. Jones reserves all his 
strength for the third act, which is really absorbing 
from first to last, and remarkably well written to boot. 
Dr. Carey has for six months devoted himself to 
Amphiel for Edana's sake, all the time loathing his 
task and his patient. But Amphiel has broken loose 
again and disappeared. Will he ever return ? Carey 
confesses to his confidant that he hopes not. He 


does return, however, having got through his bout of 
debauchery; and it is the colloquy between him and 
Carey that Edana overhears. The scene is intensely 
painful and intensely powerful; the encounter of the 
two men would in itself be both painful and powerful 
enough, even if there were no wretched girl behind 
the curtain (yet, thanks to the architectural device 
before mentioned, in full view of the audience), to 
whom it brings perhaps the ghastliest of conceivable 
revelations. We have had subtler and more ingenious 
situations in recent drama, but for sheer crushing 
force, for downright hard hitting, I do not remember 
its equal. And we have vaguely known it impending 
all through the act. In that art which is half the 
secret of theatrical story-telling, in the art of fore- 
shadowing without forestalling his effects, Mr. Jones 
is really a master. The fourth act brings the play 
to an acceptable enough, but tame and indifferent, 
conclusion. In this, however, Mr. Jones perhaps 
shows wisdom and even taste. Professor Murray, in 
his recently published Literature of Ancient Greece 
in which the drama is treated with singular and very 
suggestive insight remarks that "the gradual slack- 
ening of the interest till the 'pity and terror' melt 
away in gentle artistic pleasure was one of the 
essential principles of Greek art," and that "Shake- 
speare was with the Greeks." This principle might 
conceivably have been modified had the Athenian 


or the Elizabethan stage possessed the mechanism 
necessary for what we call a "quick curtain." Not 
to insist on this (perhaps impious) suggestion, I grant 
that Mr. Jones may cite ^schylus and Shakespeare 
in proof of the artistic value of anticlimax. For 
myself, I am so rabid a modern that if I had written 
the third act of The Physician, I should have racked 
my brains and perhaps spoilt my play in the attempt 
to devise a still stronger fourth act. It is all very 
well to be in the same boat with ^schylus and 
Shakespeare, but the distinction seems dubious when 
you find it shared by every half-baked amateur that 
ever lived. 

The discerning reader who studies the theatrical 
advertisements may by this time have noticed that, 
whereas Miss Marion Terry and Miss Mary Moore 
are both appearing nightly at the Criterion, my 
account of Mr. Jones's plot shows only one lady 
concerned in it. The truth is that another lady 
adorns the stage at intervals, but is totally uncon- 
cerned in the action, and might as well, nay, much 
better, have been omitted. Much better, I repeat; 
for this sandwiching of the hero between cynicism 
and candour, between worldliness and other-world- 
liness, between the pagan and the saint, between 
porphyry and alabaster, reduces the play from the 
psychological tragedy it might have been to the 
intellectual melodrama it is. The character-drawing, 


in a word, is by no means on a level with the story- 
telling. There is no character whatever in Edana; 
she is a figure of pure convention; and the temptress, 
Lady Valerie, is sadly inferior to her first cousin, 
Audrey Lesden, in Michael and his Lost Angel. Her 
share in the action is inessential and painful. Except 
as a means of getting Dr. Carey off the stage for 
ten minutes in the third act, she is of no use what- 
ever. The play would really be much better if we 
never heard her name, and knew no more about her 
than what Carey tells his confidant in the first act. 
The scene in which she dismisses Carey unnecessarily 
humiliates him, and the scenes in which she tries to 
resume her empire over him degrade both herself and 
(by implication) her lover of bygone days. Never 
was siren so innocent of subtlety; or rather, to put it 
in plain English, never was woman so devoid of tact. 
Her clumsy coquetries have not one ha'porth of 
allurement in them; and, as they only bore Dr. 
Carey without producing one ha'porth of effect, it is 
hard to see what possible purpose they serve. The 
worthy doctor himself is somewhat romantically con- 
ceived. Does one, I should like to know, find 
eminent nerve specialists buttonholing their col- 
leagues to bewail their lack of "faith," and bemoan- 
ing to maidens in white muslin the inapplicability 
of the microscope to metaphysics? When I have 
chanced to roam through Harley Street and Cavendish 


Square, I have not found the air rent with these 
ululations. Some doctors, it seems to me, never 
dream of bringing their microscope into touch with 
their metaphysics, or say, adapting the poet, "the 
undevout anatomist is mad." Others get through 
life very comfortably without any faith to speak of 
even in the Pharmacopoeia. But the variety studied 
by Mr. Jones the physician in trouble about his 
soul, or his lack of soul has somehow escaped my 
observation. I should have more belief in him if 
he did not talk so much about "curing" people, 
and if, on meeting the dipsomaniac lover of the 
lady he himself adores, he did not seize him by 
both hands and cry "Whilst Nature holds out one 
little rushlight of hope, I'll never leave you till I can 
set you upright before all men and before her ! " 
This is distinctly unprofessional language. I know 
that doctor he comes from the Princess's. And he 
brings with him a harmonium to play hymn-tunes 
at appropriate cues (for instance, "He passed away 
peacefully, begging you to forgive him "), and a 
chintz -walled vicarage, and a procession of comic 
and pathetic rustics, and, in brief, an atmosphere 
of melodrama which lowers, not the interest and 
power, but the artistic status of the play. 

Mr. Wyndham's Dr. Carey is an .admirable piece 
of acting, perhaps the most striking thing he has 
done in serious drama. If anything, he plays the 


part with too studious self-restraint, and makes 
certain passages gloomier than is strictly necessary. 
Mr. *t halberg's Walter Amphiel is exceedingly clever, 
especially in the consultation scene of the first act. 
There is not enough character in the part to give 
room for variety; Amphiel is a dipsomaniac in the 
abstract. Mr. Alfred Bishop's Parson Hinde is an 
accomplished and beautiful performance, which, more 
than anything else, lights up the somewhat sombre 
play. Mr. Jones's conception of the character is 
delightful ; the scene in which the old man " preaches 
a sermon, tells a story, and sings a song," shows a 
touch of the true humorist; and it is not often that 
an author finds an actor to collaborate with him as 
Mr. Bishop does. Miss Marion Terry makes a 
charming Lady Valerie; the shortcomings of the 
character are in no way attributable to the actress. 
Edana is not at all a part for Miss Mary Moore. 
Mr. Jones has given his heroine little enough indi- 
viduality, yet a great deal more than Miss Moore 
put into it. The enthusiasm which is Edana's one 
definite quality nowhere appeared in the acting. 
When Dr. Carey said "The girl's face glowed like 
a live coal," we could almost have suspected him 
of sarcasm. Perhaps, if Edana had been more real 
to us, we should not have found the last act so 
much of an anticlimax. Minor characters are 
capitally played by Mr. Leslie Kenyon, Miss Carlotta 


Addison, Miss Mary Jocelyn, Mr. Kenneth-Douglas, 
and Mr. J. G. Taylor. 

The Physician is Rosemary writ large and brought 
to a "happy ending." It might have been a great 
play had Lady Valerie been suppressed, and Edana 
made a character instead of a muslin doll. Even 
as it stands, it is thoughtful and skilful, absorbingly 
interesting, and eminently alive. 

Mile. Felicia Mallet, who now plays Pierrot in 
A Pierrot's Life* at the Prince of VVales's, is certainly 
an accomplished pantomimist, and puts abundance 
of movement and expression into the part; but it 
seems to me, I own, that in the substitution of 
Mile. Mallet for Mile. Litini what is gained in 
vivacity is lost in charm. The truth is, I have at 
best but a moderate relish for this form of art, and 
am apt to prefer grace to virtuosity. Miss Ellas 
Dee is clever as Louisette, and Mile. Litini is 
curiously effective in the small part of Fifine. 



St. Paul's, 6th April. 

"Ix's a lonely thing to be a champion," says the 

prize-fighter hero of one of Mr. Bernard Shaw's 

* See p. 8. 


novels. In the same plaintive rhythm I am moved 
to exclaim, " It's a dismal thing to be a specialist." 
How 'one's sympathies dwindle! How one's vision 
narrows ! Take my own case, for instance : having 
put on the blinkers of theatrical criticism, I have no 
eyes for the world outside the theatre. Crete and 
Rhodes, the Famine and the Jubilee, the Education 
Bill and the Lincolnshire Handicap all these, and 
a hundred other topics of national or mundane 
interest, solicit my attention in the daily papers; yet 
to what do I turn first? Why, to "Green Room 
Gossip," or "Footlight Flashes," or "The Drama 
Day by Day." Similarly, when M. Maeterlinck's 
essays come into my hands, on which of them do 
I pounce with instant avidity? On "The Awaken- 
ing of the Soul" ; on " Mystic Morality "; on "The 
Deeper Life " ? No, on none of these not even on 
"Women" but on "The Tragical in Daily Life"; 
because I know that it is more or less concerned with 
the theatre. 

Was it in Laputa or in Gotham that the proverbial 
philosopher was bent on extracting sunbeams from 
cucumbers ? Imagine the converse process extract- 
ing cucumbers from (say) moonbeams and you will 
have some idea of the difficulty of disengaging any 
solid doctrine from M. Maeterlinck's fascinating essay. 
< What M. Maeterlinck aims at is the negation of the 
theatre a drama which eschews volition and passion, 


conflicts and crises a drama in which nothing is 
done, and whatever is said must be studiously irre- 
levant. Tolstoi issuing a "Soldier's Pocket-book" on 
non-resistance principles would not be a more para- 
doxical spectacle than M. Maeterlinck constructing 
an aesthetic of the drama or the theory that the most 
interesting moments in life are those in which we are 
doing nothing, saying nothing, and thinking nothing. 

If you suspect me of caricaturing M. Maeterlinck's 
position, read Mr. Sutro's smooth and sympathetic 
translation of the essay in question, and you will see : 
" The true tragic element of life only begins at the 
moment when so-called adventures, sorrows, and 
dangers have disappeared. ... Is it not tranquillity 
that is terrible tranquillity watched by the stars? 
And is it in tumult or in silence that the spirit of 
life quickens within us? ... Is it not an ancient 
error to imagine that it is at the moment when passion 
possesses us that we live our truest lives? ... An 
old man seated in his arm-chair, waiting patiently, 
with his lamp beside him, giving unconscious ear 
to all the eternal laws that reign about the house . . . 
submitting with bent head to the presence of his soul 
and his destiny . . . does yet live, in reality, a deeper, 
more human, and more universal life than the lover 
who strangles his mistress, the captain who conquers 
in battle, or 'the husband who avenges his honour.'" 

The fact is, M. Maeterlinck himself caricatures his 


own creed; and that is why I read with a certain 
regret these utterances of a great poet and an 
exquisite spirit. There are deep and essential truths 
in this very paper, but their practical efficacy is to 
a great extent marred by the mystical vesture in which 
they are enveloped. Here, as in so many other cases, 
mysticism means sheer over-statement. You take a 
poor little truth, often subtle and valuable in itself, 
and you distend it like a soap-bubble until it seems 
to fill the whole vault of heaven, and, having lost all 
proportion to other truths, is itself a truth no longer, 
but a filmy monstrosity. Of course, you attain a 
certain effect by this isolation and exaggeration of 
your idea; but it is a cheap effect, unworthy of a 
thinker and an artist. 

The truth which M. Maeterlinck has portentously 
overblown in this essay, he himself has stated with 
incomparable simplicity and felicity in one of his 
dramas Interieur, if I am not mistaken. "// is in 
the soul that things happen" that is the inmost 
secret of his dramatic theory and practice. External 
happenings are of no interest save as they express and 
interpret what happens in the soul; and when the 
soul-states they interpret are barbarous or bestial, the 
interest we feel in them is not strictly artistic, but 
rather archaeological or pathological. " When I go 
to a theatre," says M. Maeterlinck, " I feel as though 
I were spending a few hours with my ancestors, who 


conceived life as something primitive, arid, and brutal; 
but this conception of theirs scarcely even lingers in 
my memory, and surely it is not one that I can share." 
Clearly, M. Maeterlinck would not enjoy Richard III.; 
he betrays a certain distaste even for Othello, and 
what he likes in Hamlet is that "he does not act." 

With certain qualifications, all this can be accepted 
readily enough. One very important qualification 
M. Maeterlinck himself suggests : " It is not in the 
actions but in the words that are found the beauty 
and greatness of tragedies that are truly beautiful 
and great. . . . The only words that count are those 
that at first, seem useless, for it is therein that the 
essence lies." To the devotees of the well-made play 
this must seem the most damnable of heresies. But 
if there is one thing more certain than another, it is 
that the great plays of the world are not the well- 
made plays, and that Sophocles and Shakespeare live 
precisely by the things which Monsieur Scribe, had 
they had him for a collaborator, would inexorably 
have cut. Give us poetry, and we can put up with a 
good deal of archaic psychology. 

It is certain, however, that archaic psychology, like 
any other anachronism, is out of place in modern 
drama. So far M. Maeterlinck carries us with him. 
But when he leaps from the assertion that some 
passions are primitive, to the theory that all passion 
is vulgar and insignificant, and the implication that 


the highest drama would consist of an old man sitting 
beside a lamp and silently " submitting to the pres- 
ence df his soul and his destiny," then we feel that 
the truth is getting a little filmy. It is all very well 
for an old gentleman, in the words of Whitman, to " loaf 
and invite his soul," but drama is not the medium, 
and the theatre can never be the place, for such 
solemnities. In the ideal drama, according to M. 
Maeterlinck, "it is no longer a violent exceptional 
moment of life that passes before our eyes it is life 
itself." Yes, but how is the thing to be managed? 
At this rate the ideal theatre would be a Trappist 
monastery, and we should go to a Quaker's meeting 
for rattle and devilment. 

Fortunately for the world, M. Maeterlinck, the 
poet, does not act up to his critico-mystical theory. 
It is in the souls of his personages that things happen, 
but things do happen in their souls. His romantic 
scenery and dateless time are mere devices for the 
isolation of the soul, its abstraction from all narrow- 
ing influences of custom, tradition, religion, race, 
nationality. But things do happen, I repeat. His 
dramas are dramas because conflicts and crises occur 
in the souls he bodies forth. They love and they 
hate ; they are tossed to and fro on waves of rapture, 
and terror, and anguish : 

" In their heart is a blind desire, 
In their eyes foreknowledge of death." 


Turn from "The Tragical in Daily Life" to 
Aglavaine et Selysetteone of the profoundest and 
most beautiful dramas in existence and you will find 
it contradict in every scene the excesses of M. Maeter- 
linck's theory. It is not "static" but irresistibly 



>]th April. 

THERE had been rumours that in his new play at the 
St. James's Mr. Pinero was not pursuing his recent 
line of advance, but beating a temporary retreat. 
The production of The Princess and the Butterfly* has 
proved these rumours groundless. Mr. Pinero has 
turned a little aside, indeed ; he has got out of a rut, 
or what threatened to become one; but, far from 
retreating, he has made, I venture to say, a distinct 
and decisive advance. More than any of his previous 
works, this one brings home to us the conviction that, 
after all these years, or centuries, we are again within 
measurable distance of possessing, not a "literary 
drama," but a dramatic literature. 

That is the one vital aspect of the matter, the 

* March 29 June 30. Nine performances of The Prisoner 
of Zeitda brought the season to a close on July 9. 


aspect on which criticism ought to insist. Let us 
hold in check, for once, our habit of confounding 
criticism with fault-finding, until we have clearly 
realised and affirmed that with such a play as this the 
English theatre takes an independent, honourable, 
even conspicuous place among the theatres of Europe. 
I do not mean that The Princess and the Butterfly is 
certain to be greatly successful abroad. It may or 
may not be ; if fitness for exportation were the test of 
merit, Charlie's Aunt would be the greatest play of 
the age. What I do mean is that this largely con- 
ceived, thoughtful, delicate, delightful comedy deserves 
to be judged not by a merely local, but by a 
European standard, and more than confirms Mr. 
Pinero in his position among the first half-dozen of 
living dramatists. Nay, more if we try to place it 
in another dimension, not looking abroad over con- 
temporary Europe, but looking back along the record 
of the English stage we shall have to go I know not 
how far to find work in which intellectual and scenic 
qualities are so happily blended. Mr. Pinero has 
imposed upon himself conditions not hitherto ac- 
cepted by any English playwright. He has written 
what may be called a realistic comedy, nowhere 
availing himself of the traditional licence of the 
English theatre in the direction either of rhetoric or 
of farce. For Caste, immeasurably the best of T. W. 
Robertson's works, I have a great affection and 



respect. There is perhaps more racy humanity in it 
than in The Princess and the Butterfly, which turns 
on a subtlety of sentiment, not on an obvious contrast 
of manners. But how trivial is the wit of Cas/e, 
how grossly farcical its technique, compared with the 
exquisite style and workmanship of Mr. Pinero's play! 
Going a generation further back, we come upon 
Money^ that intolerably artificial farrago of pinchbeck 
wit, Byronic sentiment, and conventional "business." 
Here, surely, we need not pause any more than at 
the Fondloves and Wildrakes of Sheridan Knowles, 
the Silkies and Sulkies of Holcroft and Morton. Not 
till we come to Sheridan and Goldsmith do we find 
work of anything like the calibre of Mr. Pinero's : 
and here, again, the conditions, the conventions, are 
so different that it would be absurd to suggest any 
order of merit. Sheridan and Goldsmith continued 
and consummated a long tradition. They were the 
lineal descendants, respectively, of Congreve and 
Farquhar. They worked in ready-made forms ; they 
did over again, with brilliant success, what others had 
done before them. The interest of Mr. Pinero's 
work lies in the fact that he is not the transmitter, 
but rather, we may hope, the originator, of a tradition. 
He is essentially a pioneer. His method is not local, 
but eclectic, European ; and he adapts and applies it 
with original genius to the portrayal of English life. 
Though a comedy pure and simple, steering as 


exact a course between melodrama on the one hand 
and farce on the other as any play in the language, 
The Princess and the Butterfly scarcely comes under 
Mr. Meredith's now famous definition. The comic 
spirit, in this play, is not " the first-born of common- 
sense ; " or, if it is, it turns and rends its parent in 
most unfilial fashion. The whole action is a genial 
satire upon worldly wisdom. I cannot guess what 
Mr. Pinero means by his sub-title, The Fantastics, for, 
until within five minutes of the end, his hero and 
heroine are fantastic only in their devotion to 
common-sense. They seem to have been reading 
Mr. Meredith on Comedy, and to have laid to heart 
the maxims that " Sensitiveness to the comic laugh is 
a step in civilisation. To shrink from being an object 
of it is a step in cultivation." It is because Sir 
George Lamorant and Princess Pannonia fear " the 
comic laugh" that they are bent on "going to meet 
old-age half-way." Comedy has always sanctioned 
their initial cowardice and derided their ultimate 
daring. The Princess strives to act up to the counsel 
of Orsino in Twelfth Night : 

" Let still the woman take 
An older than herself; so wears she to him, 
So sways she level in her husband's heart." 

Sir George, in like manner, shrinks from playing 
Arnolphe to his elvish Agnes. Nay, it is perhaps 


Mrs. Tanqueray that has put Sir George on his guard 
against the marriage of a middle-aged man with a 
woman young enough to be his daughter, Mrs. Ebb- 
smith that has warned the Princess of the danger of 
fixing her affections on a man who was still in the 
nursery at the time of her first marriage. But if it is 
the duty of comedy to illustrate the rules of worldly 
wisdom, it is its privilege now and then to plead for 
the exceptions. Mr. Pinero has in this case turned 
round upon common-sense with such ingenious casu- 
istry that our sympathies are entirely with the lovers 
who, in the end, so flatly defy its dictates. And 
indeed it would be a prosy world if common-sense 
always had the laughter all on its side. Prudence, no 
doubt, prescribes a due respect for the almanac ; but 
it is well to be reminded now and again that love 
laughs at almanacs no less than at locksmiths. 

Some time ago, I defined the technical movement 
of recent years as an advance from the well-made 
play to the better-made play. The Princess and the 
Butterfly does not exactly bear out this description. 
Mr. Pinero recognised, I fancy, that close structure 
and elaborate intrigue are hostile to the equanimity 
of comedy, tending always towards drama or farce. 
He consequently gave more thought to his idea than 
to his story, and allowed himself ample canvas for his 
social picture. Perhaps he gave rather too little 
thought to his story, and somewhat neglected that 


foreshadowing which is of no less importance than 
momentary clearness of presentation. This remark 
applies especially to the part played by Fay Zuliani in 
the third act. Looking back, we see a reason for her 
coldness to the Princess, and the "exceptional" per- 
versity of her conduct, in a vague and instinctive 
jealousy of the friendship between Sir George and 
this great lady; but at the time her attitude is quite 
enigmatic. This renders the end of the third act 
practically ineffective. We so little foresee what is to 
come of Fay's midnight escapade that we take no 
particular interest in it, and are rather disconcerted 
by the care with which it is led up to and the promi- 
nence assigned it. This I regard as the one serious 
error in the play. 

For the rest, its large, easy, undulant, and yet never 
languid movement is, to my sense, delightful. It 
obeys no hard-and-fast rules, yet is far from purpose- 
less or lawless. On the contrary, we can trace in it a 
clear and even symmetrical design. The first two 
acts are introductory: they place the personages in 
their environment and state the theme. The first 
shows us the woman mourning her wasted youth and 
shuddering on the verge of middle age. Every inci- 
dent and every character is germane to the central 
idea and throws a side-light upon it. How admirably 
imagined, for instance, are the blunders of Oriel, the 
old young man, and of Lady Chichele, the young old 


woman, so serenely happy in her husband's love, even 
with the bulk of the world between them, that she 
quite forgets what terrors the lapse of years may have 
for the "girls" her friends ! The second act paints a 
companion picture, with the man for its central figure. 
The "broken butterfly" is bidding farewell to his 
youth ; and the bitterest thing of all is that he can no 
longer "see any gaiety in this sort "of racket" in 
Levan's laboured puerility, in Mylls's affectation of 
obsolete vices, in Denstroude's cynical Don Juanism, 
or in the shrieking parrot-laugh of Perceval Ord. 
The picture of the St. Roche household and its 
melancholy head is a superb piece of work. True, it 
reduces the tragedy of middle age to a mere episode 
in the satyr-play of brainless idleness, and is thus, 
perhaps, not quite in the scheme of the piece ; but it 
is so actual, so vivid, and so intensely interesting as 
to silence all merely theoretical objection. In the 
third act the drama proper sets in, and takes the form 
of a quite symmetrical quadrille-figure, though the 
symmetry is disguised with delicate art. There is 
more real originality and poetry, to my thinking, in 
the scenes between the Princess and Oriel in the 
third act than in the scene between Sir George and 
Fay in the fourth act, though Fay being admirably 
acted, and the Princess (a more difficult part) but 
moderately, the more commonplace passage produced 
the greater effect. The comparison, however, is really 


uncalled for. All four scenes the Princess's rejec- 
tion of Oriel, her provisional acceptance of Sir George, 
her recalling of Oriel to "play, for a month, at 
happiness and youth," and the quarrel and reconcilia- 
tion between Sir George and Fay all these scenes, 
while conceived in the truest spirit of comedy, are at 
the same time delicately poetical. Mr. Pinero has 
never before attained such distinction of workman- 
ship. The two kisses in which the two acts culminate 
sufficiently forecast the course of the final scene. Sir 
George and the Princess each thinks that the other is 
marrying to escape a purely hypothetical danger. So 
soon as each discovers that the other's danger is as 
real and imminent as his or her own, they see that 
their marriage is impossible, and the compact is at an 
end. It is a foregone conclusion, but Mr. Pinero 
works it out with a graceful and inventive touch 
which makes the last act perhaps the most delightful 
of the five. With its atmosphere of spring and sun- 
shine, it vaguely recalls the last act of the last play we 
saw on these boards As You Like It and even that 
reminiscence does not rob it of its savour. 

Immortal though they be, Rosalind and Celia, 
Jaques, Touchstone and Orlando are airy and evasive 
essences compared with Othello or Lear, Cleopatra 
or Lady Macbeth. We cannot demand that comedy 
should probe into the depths of character. " In the 
reproof of chance " (that is to say, in serious or tragic 


situations) "lies the true proof of men " and women. 
The Princess and the Butterfly is comedy unalloyed ; 
the worst "reproof of chance" with which the char- 
acters are even threatened is a marriage of reason 
thwarting two marriages of love. In a word, it ends 
in marriage where tragedy begins. Therefore we 
must not look to it for soul-searching analysis or 
extreme solidity of character-projection. It contains 
in abundance all that we have any right to demand 
observation, wit, humour, tenderness, scenic and 
literary skill, an animated picture of society, and a 
kindly criticism of life. 

The acting is good, without surprising merit, except 
in one case. Even Miss Fay Davis, as Fay Zuliani, 
though she made, and deserved, a very great success, 
did not seem to me in the earlier acts quite the 
irrepressible will-o'-the-wisp of Mr. Pinero's imagina- 
tion. Her freakishness did not seem temperamental, 
bred in the bone. I saw more in the part on reading 
the second act than I had seen in the performance. 
It was when the fourth act brought with it a series 
of strong emotions that Miss Davis's refined and re- 
strained yet perfectly expressive acting carried all before 
it. She was equally admirable in the fifth act graceful, 
tactful, sincere. In emotional comedy, if not in 
drama, she has certainly a future before her. Miss 
Neilson, as the Princess Pannonia, did more justice 
to the majesty than to the tenderness of the character. 


Some scenes she played very effectively, but the 
crucial passages of the third and fifth acts demanded 
a more supple and sensitive art. Mr. Alexander, 
polished and graceful throughout, was at his best in 
the fourth act, where he showed genuine feeling. 
Mr. H. B. Irving was clever as Edward Oriel ; Mr. 
Esmond was delightful as the luckless Ronald St. 
Roche; and Miss Rose Leclercq and Mr. Arthur 
Royston were particularly good as Lady Ringstead 
and Max Demailly. 




WE are apt to pay Sir Henry Irving the embarrassing 
compliment of regarding him as a privileged person, 
and instinctively imposing on him correlative obliga- 
tions. The Lyceum has for so long been proclaimed, 
and justly, our leading theatre, and its manager holds 
by common consent so pre-eminent and representative 
a position, that we find it difficult to think of the 
theatre as a commercial enterprise like any other, 
and the manager as a mere dealer in entertainments. 
Drury Lane has been ridiculously entitled " the 
National Theatre" without a shadow of reason, his- 


toric or actual. We do not openly apply any such 
term to the Lyceum, but we involuntarily think of it 
as a sort of national institution which Sir Henry 
Irving simply holds in trust. As a matter of fact, the 
Lyceum is no more a national institution than the 
Gaiety over the way. Sir Henry Irving enjoys no 
privileges and is under no obligations. His eminent 
position has not been conferred upon him, but created 
by his genius, industry, and tact. If it involves 
certain advantages (as distinct from privileges), it 
entails corresponding drawbacks. He is not the de- 
pository of any national trust, but simply the inventor 
and owner of a complex and enormously expensive 
machine, which he works at his own risk and peril. 
Thus we have not the smallest right to confront him 
with what Gregers Werle calls " the claims of the 
ideal." He has an exceedingly difficult game to play, 
and he plays it with great spirit and liberality. We 
may question the wisdom of this move or that; but 
why assume a tone of reproach, as though in descend- 
ing to considerations of filthy lucre he were in some 
way betraying our sacred confidence? If he chose 
to put on A Night Out or revive Charley's Aunf, we 
might wonder, but we should have no cause to com- 
plain. The Lyceum is no sacred precinct, dedicate 
from of old to poetic drama ; and it is absurd for us 
to feel injured, humiliated, or even surprised if we 
find Shakespeare, for a season, supplanted by Sardou. 

In all probability, Madame Sans-Gene* will prove a 
most attractive entertainment for the Jubilee public. 
It gives Miss Ellen Terry a rollicking part, through 
which she gambols delightfully, with a richness of 
humour and breadth of comic effect which remind 
one at intervals of Mrs. John Wood. It presents Sir 
Henry Irving in a great historic character, for which 
he has obviously no physical fitness, so that people 
are curious to see how he effects the incredible trans- 
formation. It involves a lavish display of costumes 
and uniforms, and a great deal of scenic movement 
and bustle. In short, it is quite the play for holiday- 
making pleasure-seekers, and may very well fill the 
gap left by the departed Prisoner of Zenda and the 
departing Red Robe. It may even be said to take 
its place with a certain appropriateness among the 
" record reign " solemnities, for it exemplifies in high 
perfection the technique of sixty years ago, and is 
therefore, so to speak, a timely anachronism. Sardou 
alone, of living men, could have written that deadly 
last act, in which the worst methods of Monsieur 
Scribe are resurrected in all their ruthless unreality; 
and this reflection brings vividly home to us that 

* April io. The Bells was played every Saturday evening, 
beginning May 8. On July 15, 17, and 22 (afternoon), The 
Merchant of Venice was performed. The season closed July 
23, with Madame Sans-Gene (first three acts) and A Story of 


sense of progress which is, I take it, the basis of our 
jubilations. So long as the intrigue is kept in the 
background, the play is amusing enough, and the 
scene between the washerwoman-duchess and the 
sub-lieutenant-Emperor may rank as one of the most 
ingenious and amusing pieces of quasi-historic comedy 
ever written. It is not unworthy of the elder Dumas. 
But the preparations for the Fouche-Neipperg-Rovigo 
intrigue cause a tedious break in the fun of the first 
act, while the working-out of the miserable invention 
simply devastates the last act. It seemed to me that 
the actors were as much bored as I was by the 
childish futility of this scene, the plots and counter- 
plots that lead to nothing at all, the perpetual move- 
ment without the smallest advance. Might not Mr. 
Comyns Carr, I wonder, have spared us some of this 
tedium ? He seems to have followed his original 
with a fidelity which would have been most com- 
mendable had he been dealing with a piece of 
genuine dramatic literature, but which is perhaps 
over-scrupulous as applied to a mere vaudeville. I 
could not but think, too, that he had been over- 
conscientious at one or two points in reproducing 
the vulgarities of Madame Sans-Gene. A vulgarism 
which may be redeemed in its original language by 
its racy reality, loses that reality when expressed, even 
by a carefully-selected equivalent, in another tongue, 
and is apt to seem frigidly offensive. On the whole, 

"OUR HOSTESS." 1 09 

however, Mr. Carr has done his work with tact. He 
was probably not free to attempt any radical modi- 
fication of the precious intrigue. When Miss Ellen 
Terry is perfectly at home in her words, the prologue 
and the first two acts, in which the intrigue is kept 
fairly in abeyance, will be very well worth seeing; for 
Miss Terry is a born comedian and throws herself 
with immense gusto into this sympathetic part. Sir 
Henry Irving has reproduced Napoleon's figure with 
astonishing success; but the head has proved more 
refractory. The peculiar cut of Napoleon's hair 
shows the actor's own physiognomy to disadvantage 
without giving it any plausible resemblance to that of 
the Emperor. The subordinate parts offer very slight 
opportunities, but are well enough acted according 
to the established Lyceum standard. Miss Gertrude 
Kingston and Miss Julia Arthur look truly mag- 
nificent as the Queen of Naples and the Princess 
of Piombino. 

Miss Irene Vanbrugh appeared at the Kilburn 
Theatre last week in Our Hostess, an adaptation by 
Mr. A. O'D. Bartholeyns of Goldoni's La Locandiera. 
I was curious to see how this charming comedy would 
come out in English, and therefore devoted an 
evening to the " Farthest North" of the theatrical 
world. The adaptor had transferred the action to 
England and to modern life, with what seemed to 
me disastrous results; but Miss Vanbrugh showed 


agreeable vivacity in a part so unlike the Mirandolina 
of the original that it awakened no crushing reminis- 
cences of Eleonora Duse's incomparable creation. 





THERE are fashions in buffoonery as in everything 
else, and undressing on the open stage has, for the 
past two or three years, formed the staple device of 
French farce -writers. These ingenious gentlemen 
have outbidden each other in the daring display of 
underclothing, and the sansculotte has run riot on the 
comic stage, as he did a hundred years ago in the 
political arena. Our adaptors have been surprisingly 
tardy in following suit. In A Night Out, indeed (as 
we are reminded on every hoarding), braces and a 
chest-protector play a prominent part; but it has been 
reserved for the intrepid Mr. Horner to proceed to 
extremities in the way of disrobing. I was not present 
at the first performance of On Leave* at the Avenue, 
when the audience, it appears, showed scant appreci- 
ation of the latest Paris fashions as exhibited on the 
stage. Some modifications had been introduced 
* April 1730 (?). 


before I saw the piece, and the double exchange of 
trousers between Mr. Arthur Playfair and Mr. W. H. 
Denny was no longer effected at the very footlights. 
Mr. Denny, indeed, was in both instances concealed 
from the public gaze, and even Mr. Playfair dissembled 
in a certain measure the processes of his toilet. The 
incidents were distasteful enough, but not more so, 
to my thinking, than the rest of the play. Perhaps I 
should blush to confess it, but the fact is that I resent 
insults to my intelligence more than outrages upon 
my sense of propriety. Had there been any merit in 
the clowning, one might have put up with the panta- 
loons. The French play, Le Sursis, by MM. Sylvane 
and Gascogne, seems to have been fairly amusing in a 
rough, second-hand way; but to force it, neck and crop, 
into an English mould, without the smallest tact or 
ingenuity, was to deprive it of all meaning and reduce 
it to rank ineptitude. More offensive and malodorous 
farces have been applauded in their day by both 
press and public. It was the sheer silliness of On 
Leave that got on the nerves of the audience, and 
made them cry out upon the deliberate vulgarity of 
the trouser incidents In Paris, where there was 
some sort of coherence in the intrigue, the first ex- 
change of clothes went well enough, and the moment 
the second was foreseen the audience shrieked with 
laughter. There, the repetition of the incident re- 
duplicated its comic effect; here, it was justly regarded 


as adding insult to injury. Adaptors and managers 
would do well to take note that the day for sheer 
imbecility is over. There must be some unusual 
ability in a French farce (as in A Night Out) or some 
exceptional cleverness in the acting (as in The Saucy 
Sally) if it is to attract the public. We can no longer 
live on the mere dregs of the French stage. 

"Foote," says Boswell, "had resolved to imitate 
Johnson on the stage, expecting great profits from his 
ridicule of so celebrated a man. Johnson being 
informed of his intention, and being at dinner at 
Mr. Thomas Davies's, the bookseller, from whom I 
had the story, he asked Mr. Davies ' what was the 
common price of an oak stick;' and being answered 
sixpence, 'Why then, sir' (said he), 'give me leave 
to send your servant to purchase me a shilling one. 
I'll have a double quantity ; for I am told Foote 
means to take me off, as he calls it, and I am deter- 
mined the fellow shall not do it with impunity/ 
Davies took care to acquaint Foote of this, which 
effectually checked the wantonness of the mimic" 
And again BOSWELL : " Foote has a singular talent 
of exhibiting character." JOHNSON : " Sir, it is not a 
talent; it is a vice; it is what others abstain from." 
BOSWELL : " Did he not think of exhibiting you, sir ? " 
JOHNSON : " Sir, fear restrained him ; he knew I would 
have broken his bones." If Johnson could come to ' 
life again, I should be sorry to insure the bones of 

"DR. JOHNSON." 113 

Mr. Leo Trevor, author of the " episode in one act :> 
which now precedes The Queerfs Proctor* at the Strand 
Theatre. Nor should I greatly care to stand in the 
shoes of Mr. Arthur Bourchier, who does what Foote 
feared to do. Both these gentlemen are probably 
guiltless of intentional irreverence ; but between them 
they do grave injury to a man who holds a unique 
place in the affections of all who care for literature. 
It would need the rarest tact, indeed, to give an 
acceptable stage-portrait of Samuel Johnson; but 
then, no one is bound to make the attempt. Mr. 
Trevor has done " what others abstain from," and he 
has done it with a total absence of tact. Johnson, on 
arriving at BoswelPs house in Edinburgh, is first made 
to conduct himself with puerile petulance to his host 
and hostess. Then, being irritated by the sarcasms 
of a young officer, Mrs. Boswell's cousin, he takes his 
revenge in a base and abominable innuendo, saying 
to Bos well, " It seems you have not returned too 
soon the soldiery has been making free in your 
absence." For this he afterwards apologises; but 
scarcely has he done so when he picks up a letter on 
the floor, and, though the first word shows him that it 
is not for him, reads it without a moment's hesitation. 
Armed with the knowledge thus obtained, he pro- 
ceeds to an act of gratuitous intermeddling in other 

* Revived April 17. Dr. Johnson produced April 24. Last 
night of both, June 8. 



people's business, which might have had the most 
disastrous effects. Of course all comes right in the 
end ; but none the less has Johnson played the part 
of an intolerable boor and a shameless and reckless 
busybody. Rude he was, no doubt, but not childishly 
and vulgarly brutal; and a busybody he can never 
have been. We know, as a matter of fact, what 
occurred on that memorable evening memorable as 
the opening scene of the never-to-be-forgotten Tour to 
the Hebrides : " My wife had tea ready for him, 
which it is well known he delighted to drink at all 
hours, particularly when sitting up late. ... He 
showed much complacency upon finding that the 
mistress of the house was so attentive to his singular 
habit ; and as no man could be more polite when he 
chose to be so, his address to her was most courteous 
and engaging; and his conversation soon charmed 
her into a forgetfulness of his external appearance." 
How delightful to imagine the scene ! And how 
impossible to imagine in its place the painful and 
humiliating episode which Mr. Trevor would substi- 
tute for it ! 

The dialogue contains one or two of Johnson's 
recorded sayings, but is for the rest hopelessly un- 
Johnsonian. Any one can use long words feebly; 
what Johnson did was to use them forcibly, and some- 
times superbly. Modernisms, too, abound. How 
little Mr. Trevor realises the period is shown in 


Johnson's reference to <c the laureateship " as the 
summit of literary ambition. Mr. Bourchier's make-up 
was ingenious, and there were touches of ability in 
his acting. For instance, his way of screwing up his 
eyes in reading, while holding the paper almost 
against his nose, was cleverly imitated from a well- 
known portrait. But, influenced no doubt by Mr. 
Trevor's conception, he made Johnson far too queru- 
lous, peevish, and ill-conditioned. His temper was 
not that of Ursa Major, but of a surly and snapping 
cur. Miss Sidney Crowe, as Mrs. Boswell, played 
with delicacy and feeling, but Mr. Fred Thome's 
Boswell was an intolerable libel upon that coxcomb 
of genius. Boswell was vain, pompous, childish, 
anything you please, but he had the air and address 
of a gentleman. Mr. Thorne gave him the accent of 
a pedlar and the appearance of a broker's man. 

The new musical farce at Terry's Theatre, entitled 
The French Maid* is a very fair specimen of its class. 
There is ingenuity, and even wit of a sort, in Mr. 
Basil Hood's lyrics; "The Twin Duet," for instance, 
contains some word-plays that the other Hood would 
not have disdained. Mr. Walter Slaughter's music, 
too, is rather more ambitious than is usual in works of 
this class, without being less tuneful. The plot is 
exceedingly involved; but we soon give up all hope 
of following it, and simply take the situations as they 
* April 24 still running. 


come. The chief successes in the way of acting were 
made by performers whom I presume to have been 
members of the country company Mr. Joseph 
Wilson, Mr. Murray King, and Mr. H. O. Clare y, 
clever comedians all. Mr. Eric Lewis and Mr. 
Herbert Standing, who have no doubt been imported 
into the cast for the London production, either had 
inferior parts, or had not found time to work them up. 
Miss Kate Cutler played the title-part pleasantly 



$th May. 

No doubt Mr. Beerbohm Tree merely intends The 
Seats of the Mighty* to "dry the plaster" of his new 
and spacious and comfortable theatre ; and no doubt 
it will serve that purpose well enough. If it does 
more, all I can say is that chaos has come again, 
and that I renounce all hope of ever reading the 
riddle of public taste. I make every effort to place 
myself at the right point of view ; I transport myself 
in spirit to the balcony, the upper circle, the pit, the 
* April 28 June 5, 


gallery; and from whatever angle I regard it, I find 
The Seats of the Mighty equally empty and equally 
dull. This is not a question of liking or disliking a 
particular class of play. It would be idle to pretend 
that cape-and-sword drama is the one thing of all 
others for which my spirit yearns ; but when it is 
good of its kind it interests and amuses me. The 
Prisoner of Zenda I liked very much; The Red Robe ', 
though it pleased me less, had obvious elements of 
attractiveness ; but what The Seats of the Mighty 
has to commend it, I am at a loss to imagine. It 
is not good of its kind, but very much the reverse. 
The Prologue, though tedious in itself, promises well 
enough. It is like the opening of a second-rate play 
of Scribe's. There is even something piquant in the 
prophetic Doltaire, who, in 1758, foretells the French 
Revolution, even to the tumbrils, the guillotine, and 
the head -basket. He is first-cousin to Rameau's 
Nephew, with whom, through the intervention of 
Brachvogel and Grundy, we made acquaintance in 
The Pompadour ; but that need not specially dis- 
courage us. He sets off to achieve the adventure 
of the compromising papers, and though we seem to 
have heard of those papers before, we wait in hope 
of thrilling developments. But in the succeeding 
acts the prophetic Doltaire has become the most 
commonplace of villains, the situations have no 
ingenuity or necessary sequence, the interest is 


frittered away by the introduction of another and 
blacker villain with two irrelevant imbeciles in his 
train, the scenery becomes gloomy, the effects 
mechanical and malodorous, and the whole thing as 
flagrant a compilation of pasteboard and saltpetre as 
ever, under the guise of " military melodrama," stirred 
and half-stifled a transpontine audience. For sheer 
effrontery of effect-hunting, it would be hard to beat 
Doltaire's searching the pockets of the barber Voban. 
He has not the smallest assignable reason for imagin- 
ing that Voban is in possession of the papers; the 
inspiration, so far as we can see, must be the result 
of clairvoyance; and if we are to take it as another 
instance of the occult powers manifested in the 
Prologue, how comes it that these powers fail him 
in the nick of time, so that Voban is enabled to 
transfer the papers from one pocket to another? 
In short, there is neither rhyme nor reason in the 
incident the effect is attained (if attained it is) by 
the simple process of setting common-sense at defi- 
ance. The situation at the end of the act was thrilling 
enough to the eye, but had not the least real strength 
or interest ; and up to this point I think the audience 
quite shared my feeling of profound boredom. The 
wildly improbable and theatrical starts and surprises 
of the second act seemed to arouse them to interest 
and even enthusiasm, and they apparently relished 
the sulphurous and explosive catastrophe; so that, 


on the whole, the play passed as a success. It is 
possible, indeed, that romantic drama is gathering 
momentum as it rolls downhill, and that The Seats 
of the Mighty may prove all the more popular in 
virtue of its inferiority to its predecessors of the 
same school. How it makes one sigh for Trilby! 
I have not read Mr. Gilbert Parker's novel, but I 
can quite well see that it may be, and probably is, 
vastly superior to the play. The old idea that no 
novel could make a good play has been superseded 
by an equally mistaken notion that any novel which 
has run through a certain number of editions can 
be adapted to the stage. In this case, not only 
does the play bear unmistakable traces of its narrative 
origin, but it has not even the redeeming quality of 
presenting good opportunities to the actors. It is 
long since we have seen Mr. Tree do anything so 
commonplace as his Doltaire the part really gives 
no scope for intelligent acting. Mrs. Tree is good 
in a character of very limited opportunities, and Mr. 
Lewis Waller and Miss Kate Rorke are convention- 
ally effective in parts in which nothing more could 
possibly be expected of them. The best performance 
of the evening, to my mind, was Mrs. Tree's clear 
and graceful delivery of a rhymed address by Mr. 
Alfred Austin. 

In Lost, Stolen, or Strayed* a musical farce pro- 
* Afterwards called A Day in Paris. April 27 July IO. 


duced last week at the Duke of York's Theatre, 
Mr. J. Cheever Goodwin has so faithfully imitated 
all the characteristics of the peripatetic school of 
French vaudeville, of which Labiche's Chapeau de 
Faille a" Italic is the accepted type, that one instinc- 
tively ransacks one's memory for a French original. 
The playbill, however, forbids any such "recherche 
de la paternite" by applying the term "original" to 
the piece itself; and in any case the matter is of no 
possible moment. Whatever its origin, the produc- 
tion is a genuinely comic piece of buffoonery, 
absolutely without refinement, ingenuity, or any 
intellectual merit whatever, yet free from deliberate 
coarseness, and (though it deals with a baby) not 
even offensively vulgar, as such things go. It makes 
one laugh mechanically, just as a pinch of snuff 
makes one sneeze ; and in both cases the mere 
physical spasm is not unrefreshing. In the reckless 
extravagance of its methods and effects the piece 
resembles and rivals A Night Out It is lavishly 
mounted, and cleverly acted by Mr. Frank Wheeler, 
Mr. J. H. Barnes, Mr. Robb Harwood, Mr. H. De 
Lange, Mr. Arthur Styan, Miss Ethel Sydney, and 
Miss Decima Moore. 

In the two acts of Mr. Sympkyn* by Messrs. A. J. 
Flaxman and William Younge, which I sat out at 
the Globe on Saturday night, I could not discover 
* May I 21 (?). 


a gleam of cleverness or of reason. It seemed to 
me unmitigated nonsense, like a nightmare begotten 
by a surfeit of French farces; but the pit and gallery 
dutifully laughed at it. Even the acting was third- 
rate, though Mr. George Shelton contrived to be 
amusing at points, in a part obviously designed for 
Mr. Penley. 

By the time these lines are published, John Gabriel 
Borkman* will have been presented at the Strand 
Theatre, and the public will doubtless have been 
assured by a dozen critical authorities that "the 
last blow has been struck at the Ibsen craze," and 
that it may be "conveniently buried and consigned 
to oblivion." I have quite lost count of the number 
of "last blows" which have been struck at this 
"craze," and of the deeps within deeps of oblivion 
to which it has been consigned. Of course such 
prophecies no longer impose on the meanest intel- 
ligence not even on the prophets themselves. How 
John Gabriel Borkman may affect English audiences 
I cannot pretend to foresee. A tragedy of wasted 
lives, it certainly cannot be called inspiriting or 
recreative; but to my thinking it is much less pain- 
ful than Little Eyolf, and its intensely imaginative 
and poetic quality gives it a peculiar place in my 
affections. The second act, with the exquisite 
humour of the Foldal scene, and the thrilling passion 
* May 3 7 (afternoon performances). 


of the colloquy between Borkman and Ella, seems 
to me one of the greatest things Ibsen has ever 
done; the first half of the third act is superb; and 
in the last scene of all the poet of Brand 
the lyric impetus and fervour of his youth, f Con- 
troversy will no doubt rage around the cynical speech 
with which Mrs. Wilton bids adieu to the house of 
Borkman. Most people will profess themselves un- 
utterably shocked and scandalised, while some will 
proclaim it an incomparable stroke of genius. Both 
views seem to me excessive. I regard the touch as 
an artistic error, and regret its presence in the play. 
My theory of the matter is that the poet has here 
introduced an "anecdote," an incident he has seen 
or heard of in real life, and has failed to harmonise 
it with its surroundings. That is the danger of darn- 
ing patches of reality upon a fabric of fiction their 
reality is only relative, and unless you exactly repro- 
duce all the antecedents and conditions of the case 
(and this is almost always impossible) the anecdotic 
fact becomes artistic falsehood. I have no evidence 
to allege in support of my theory, but it seems to 
me not improbable. As for the acting, I must leave 
praise or blame to critics who can see the production 
in the true, or rather the normal, perspective. My 
occasional attendance at rehearsals, however, while 
it disables me from criticising, enables me to bear 
emphatic testimony to the unwearying labour and 


thought bestowed upon their work by all the artists 
concerned Mr. W. H. Vernon, Mr. James Welch, 
Mr. Martin Harvey, Miss Genevieve Ward, Miss 
Elizabeth Robins, Mrs. Beerbohm Tree, Miss Dora 
Barton, and Miss Marianne Caldwell. 



1 2th May. 

THE really significant " play without words " at Her 
Majesty's Theatre on Saturday night was enacted 
before, not behind, the curtain. As episode after 
episode of 'Chand d 'Habits* passed before our eyes 
without for a moment thrilling, touching, or amusing 
us, our faces grew gradually longer and longer, until 
they wore an expression of utter blankness which 
Pierrot himself might have envied. Then we looked 
at each other with a wild surmise, each wondering 
whether he alone was devoid of sense for this ex- 
quisite form of art. But, no ! like Douglas Jerrold 
when he found that his wife understood Sordello no 
better than he did, we were reassured as to our sanity 
by finding our own blankness of expression reflected 
in the countenances of all around. Then those of us 
who were not bound by stern duty to our stalls began 
* May 8 June 5. 


softly and sadly to vanish away, until, at the end of 
the second scene, the retreat became a stampede, and 
I mentally set it to the music of one of Mr. Henley's 
refrains, " Into the night go one and all." This 
melancholy exodus was by far the most expressive 
piece of pantomime of the evening. 

The fate of 'Chand d' Habits confirms me in my 
belief that our alleged taste for French pantomime is 
almost entirely an affectation, and that the critics who 
write it up are practically (not altogether) in the 
position of those who went into ecstasies over the 
Emperor's New Clothes. Not altogether, I say; for it 
is a very stupid pantomime indeed in which there are 
not one or two ingenious and amusing passages to 
leaven the mass of dulness. For instance, Signor 
Rossi's miming of Lafontaine's fable in A Pierrot's 
Life gave us three minutes of real and appreciable 
pleasure in the course of a long afternoon ; we recog- 
nised the (quite genuine) cleverness and grace of a 
great deal of the remainder; and as the thing was 
French, and not to be amused by it might argue us 
insular and obtuse, we omitted to note that, cleverness 
and grace notwithstanding, we had, on the whole, 
been horribly bored by a fundamentally irrational 
form of entertainment. Consequently we wrote it 
up "we" collectively, not I personally and the 
management bolstered it up with piquant changes in 
the cast, and the thing ran I don't know how many 


weeks. A long run, however, may or may not mean 
a popular success. All I can say is that I never 
met or heard of a single human being to whom A 
Pierrot's Life had given anything like keen and con- 
tinuous pleasure. The case of EEnfant Prodigue 
was different. The designers of that piece, by chance 
or inspiration, had strung together an almost un- 
broken series of ingenious and amusing incidents, so 
that it was unique in its kind. The worst one could 
say of it was that it had its dull moments : the best 
one can say of its successors is that they are not 
without their amusing moments. Even of 'Chand 
d' Habits this might have been said if the piece had 
gone crisply and the tricks had succeeded. As (+ 
was, the mechanism creaked and all the illusions 
missed fire. The appearances and disappearances of 
the ghost were arranged with a total absence of 
ingenuity, and executed with a fatal lack of precision. 
It was pitiful to see so expert a pantomimist as Mr. 
Lauri, when the cue came for the ghost to vanish, 
solemnly stationing himself upon the trap he had 
come up by a moment before, and stamping his foot 
as a signal to the powers below. The trick which 
should have brought the second scene to a close did 
not come off at all, and was left to the imagination. 
And still less, in another sense, did the sword busi- 
ness at the end "come off." Poor Mr. Lauri's 
struggles with the waggling point of steel on which 


Pierrot was to be impaled were truly painful to 
behold. If we are to be entertained with child's-play, 
at least let it be neat and ingenious of its kind. 

But in dwelling on mechanical imperfections and 

defects of rehearsal, I feel that I am obscuring my 

real point. If the tricks had gone well, and the thing 

had been briskly and brightly played, it might, like A 

Pierrots Life, have passed as a success ; but it would 

have been thoroughly tedious none the less. It was 

not the dragging and bungling that bored us ; they 

merely gave us courage to confess our boredom ; the 

tedium lay in the miming itself. Pray do not think 

that I went to the theatre prejudiced against this 

form of entertainment, and determined to find my 

prejudice justified. Oddly enough, the reverse was 

the case I went with the liveliest anticipations, fully 

expecting to find ' Chand d' Habits another and better 

(because shorter) Enfant Prodigue. I had heard 

great things of the play and of M. SeVerin ; the name 

of the inventor, Catulle Mendes, excited my interest ; 

and, above all, I could not doubt that it must be a 

truly remarkable work which Mr. Tree went out of 

his way, as it were, to bring into prominence at his 

new theatre. Thus my frame of mind, when the 

curtain rose, was all that author, actor, or manager 

could possibly desire; but it had not been up five 

minutes before the old familiar boredom began to 

steal over me. As Pierrot lay on the bench and 


Musidora pranced and curvetted around him, I began 
to feel that here was an infinite deal of miming to an 
infinitesimal modicum of meaning; and that feeling 
grew upon me all through the action. M. Severin, to 
be sure, is graceful and agile, despite his girth, and 
has ample play of feature ; but, frankly, I should as 
soon think of calling Mr. Arthur Roberts or Mr. Dan 
Leno a "great poetical mime." In a rough-and- 
tumble comic action, lasting twenty minutes at the 
outside, M. Severin would no doubt be vastly 
amusing; and that, I take it, is Pierrot's proper 
sphere. I have not gone into the history of this 
branch of pantomime, but I am much mistaken if 
the tragic Pierrot Grimaldi playing Hamlet be not 
a recent development, or corruption, of the pristine 
idea. The French seem to find some subtle irony in 
sending Pierrot, with his floury visage, through all 
possible scenes and conjunctures of life; but this 
irony does not exist for us. The whole art-form is 
an exotic which cannot really take root here; and 
(except in the rarest instances) the relish we pretend 
for it is an affectation and a provincialism. It is 
part of the superstition which declares French acting 
better than English, simply because the French have 
more gesture and external expression than we have. 
It may be true that this renders acting easier to 
them ; but I cannot see that an English artist is to 
be despised because, if he is to keep within the limits 


of nature, he must deny himself some of the means 
of expression which his French colleague is free to 
employ. We have dozens of actors (in theatres and 
music-halls) who, with equal licence of grimace and 
gesticulation, could rival and perhaps outdo the 
"great poetical mime" of ' C hand d' Habits. 

If we are to judge by persistence of applause and 
number of recalls, Mr. Wilson Barrett's Virginius* 
(at the Lyric Theatre) is a creation beside which 
Salvini's Othello and Duse's Magda must pale their 
ineffectual fires. In truth, Mr. Barrett's performance 
is effective enough in its dry, staccato way ; and no 
doubt this dryness has its advantages as compared 
with the " fruitiness " of the minor tragedians of a 
bygone generation. Miss Maud Jeffries made a 
graceful and pathetic Virginia, and Mr. Franklin 
McLeay a good Dentatus; but Mr. Edward Irwin's 
Icilius was curiously spiritless. 



1 9//z May. 

LAST Saturday evening brought with it a conflict 

of duties, or rather what is much rarer in the 

* May 8-20. 


experience of a theatrical critic a competition of 
pleasures. I wanted to be at the Court, to join 
in welcoming Mr. Hare back to London after his 
too long absence; but I wanted no less to be at the 
Adelphi, where an American company was to present 
an American drama of the Civil War. Not having 
acquired the art of disengaging my astral body, I was 
compelled to make my choice between Chelsea and 
the Strand; and, truth to tell, the choice was not 
long a-making. Mr. Hare was secure of his welcome ; 
my seat would probably be occupied by a louder, 
though not a heartier, well-wisher ; and The Hobby- 
Horse^ after all, was not a new play. At the Adelphi, 
on the other hand, there was a new play to be seen, 
a new company and new method to be studied, 
perhaps a new departure in artistic intercourse with 
America to be inaugurated. For we see too little 
of American art on this side of the Atlantic. In 
exchange for a dozen companies and combinations, 
the Americans, as a rule, send us only one company, 
Mr. Daly's ; and individual American artists, when 
they appear among us, make haste to become Angli- 
cised as much as possible. Thus we are confirmed 
in that illusion of metropolitanism which is, in fact, 
the worst form of provincialism. We do not even 
take the trouble to know what is going on beyond the 
Atlantic. I myself unreservedly plead guilty to this 
sin of incuriousness; yet I had somehow gathered 



mainly through my friend Professor Brander Matthews 
of New York that American authors were doing 
remarkable work, especially in the domain of popular 
drama. It was under this impression, then, that I 
went to the Adelphi, where, for once in a way, the 
event more than justified my most sanguine ex- 

In dealing with Secret Service* we must get rid from 
the outset of Adelphi standards. To call it the best 
play we have seen at the Adelphi for many years, 
would be to assign it to a wrong class. It is simply 
the best thing of its kind, the best drama of adven- 
ture and situation, written within my recollection in 
the English language. Mr. Gillette shows through- 
out a gift of invention that would do Sardou no 
discredit ; he piles situation on situation with almost 
too lavish ingenuity ; and he writes with such sobriety, 
delicacy, and feeling as to transpose what would 
otherwise be crude enough military melodrama into 

* May 15. Transferred to Comedy Theatre, June 14. Re- 
turned to Adelphi Theatre, July 15. Last performance of 
American company, August 4. On the following evening it 
was acted by an English company (Mr. William Terriss, Miss 
Millward, Mr. Harry Nicholls), and ran until September 4. It 
was revived, with the English company, November 24, but the 
run was cut short on December 16 by the assassination of Mr. 
Terriss. On the afternoon of Boxing Day (December 27), it 
was revived with Mr. Herbert Waring and Miss Mary Whitty 
in the leading parts, and ran till January 20, 1898. 


the key of literature, almost, one might say, of poetry. 
The play is compounded entirely after the popular 
formula. There is no character in it only heroism. 
The villain, as in duty bound, is a discarded suitor of 
the heroine. At the prescribed point in each act 
the stage is cleared for the duet between the comic 
lovers. A happy ending is mechanically tagged on 
to a tragic theme. All the rules of the game, in 
short, are punctiliously observed. But the heroism is 
quiet and gentlemanlike, not rampant and robustious. 
The villain (and this we may almost call a touch 
of realism) is conscientious and virtuous. The 
comic lovers are pleasantly imagined, entirely in- 
offensive, amusing, and even touching. The happy 
ending is not insisted on, and is not so very happy after 
all. And within the limits imposed by his popular 
form, Mr. Gillette shows consummate technique. The 
time of action is as compressed as in John Gabriel 
Borkman itself; the entrances and exits are plausibly, 
if not pedantically, motived ; there are no soliloquies 
or asides; the workmanship throughout is careful, 
skilful, finished. Accepting the play for what it is 
a drama of situation devised for popular audiences 
one can scarcely point to a blemish in it, whether of 
technique or of taste. 

It is true that, in order to make a popular play, 
Mr. Gillette had to mar a really fine theme There 
is no more tragic situation conceivable than that of 


the man (or woman) detached upon " secret service." 
It may be necessary, it may be heroic ; but it belongs 
to the "dirty work" of the world, and, for poetic 
purposes, death alone can purge the stain it leaves 
on character. Mr. Gillette, indeed, seems to have 
felt this; for, throughout his play, one little word 
trembles on every one's lips, and no one, so far as 
I heard, dares to utter it the scathing monosyllable 
"Spy:" All that Colonel Dumont says to Edith in 
his own defence is true enough, and admirable in its 
sober brevity. True, the spy takes his life in his 
hands, renounces glory, and affronts a shameful 
death. True, he requires the rarest courage, re- 
source, and devotion. But the fact remains that 
part of his courage is the courage to be baseband 
that the height of his devotion is to be measured by 
the depth of his treachery. Any personal advantage 
he may reap through his mission must be tainted, 
like the thirty pieces of silver which repaid a piece 
of secret service nineteen hundred years ago ; and 
a "happy ending" to his saga is, as it were, a per- 
sonal advantage which the traitor-hero of romance 
ought not to allow himself. We see, indeed, that 
even Mr. Gillette's ingenuity cannot secure a happy 
ending except at the cost of making his hero doubly 
a traitor. When the actual crisis comes, at the end 
of the third act, he betrays the North for no better 
reason than that it is the woman he loves who has 


placed it in his power to betray the South. This is 
paltry sentimentality on his part, and President 
Lincoln would have been justified in shooting him 
simply because President Davis had spared his life. 
No ! the logic of the theme demanded that he should 
send the false telegram, and should then, in the 
fourth act, confess to Edith and expiate his fidelity 
to the Stars-and-Stripes by refusing to take advantage 
of the chance of escape she offers him. The inci- 
dent of the cartridges is moving and beautiful, but I 
confess I am bloodthirsty enough to wish that, having 
reloaded, the corporal's guard had marched him off 
and done their duty. Edith would then have had 
the consolation of reflecting that " His honour rooted 
in dishonour stood," and the play would have been 
a work of art, and not a popular drama. Sardou, 
in Fedora, realised the artistic necessity of giving a 
tragic end to a drama of treachery or was it merely 
the business necessity of giving Sarah Bernhardt a 

But I must not end on a note of disparagement. 
A fortnight ago, speaking of The Seats of the Mighty, 
I protested that I had no theoretical dislike to 
romantic drama, if only it was good of its kind. 
Here, then, is a case in point. Here is an admir- 
able play of its kind, and I desire to say so with all 
possible emphasis. There are occasions when com- 
parison, however ungracious, affords the only means 


of showing a thing in its due proportion and per- 
spective. Therefore I do not disguise my feeling that 
no home-made romantic drama within my recollec- 
tion shows anything like the originality of invention 
or delicacy of touch displayed in Secret Service. It 
is by no means a play for the Adelphi public alone. 
It ought to be seen by every one who cares for 
skilful and tactful dramatic story-telling. 

The acting, too, is most interesting, and in the 
case of Mr. Gillette himself, quietly original and im- 
pressive. Miss Blanche Walsh is good as the heroine, 
Mr. Campbell Gollan shows real skill as the villain, 
and the juvenile lovers are delightfully played by Mr. 
Henry Woodruff and Miss Odette Tyler. There is 
perhaps rather too much "snap" and precision in 
the stage-management; it smacks too much of the 
drill-sergeant; but this is at least excusable in a 
military drama. 

Many people thought that Miss Achurch's per- 
formance in last week's revival of A Doll's House* by 
the Independent Theatre was the finest she had ever 
given. Perhaps it was ; but I must own to a rooted 
prejudice in favour of the old Nora, the Nora of 
1889. So clear and detailed is my remembrance of 
that creation, that it necessarily renders me unjust 
to the Nora of to-day. Every divergence from the 
old reading, were it never so great an improvement, 
* May 1014 (afternoon performances). 

"A DOLL'S HOUSE." 135 

would jar on me simply as a thing new and un- 
expected. I shall say nothing, then, except that in 
the last act there were some admirable passages in 
which the Nora of the Novelty lived again. In the 
first act, at the moment when Nora realises that 
Krogstad has discovered the forgery, I thought 
but surely my ears deceived me that Miss Achurch 
gave a long, low whistle. Seriously, the thing seems 
impossible; and I shall be more relieved than sur- 
prised to learn that I was mistaken. If not if Miss 
Achurch has deliberately selected that method of 
interpreting Nora's emotion let me beg her to re- 
consider the point. Excellent as was Mr. Waring's 
Helmer in the original production, I think Mr. 
Courtenay Thorpe's was, or with a little more pre- 
paration might have been, even better. Mr. Thorpe 
was very uncertain in his words, so that it was hard 
to tell when his pauses and hesitations were inten- 
tional, and when they were merely devices to cloak a 
lapse of memory. I am inclined to think that a 
certain measure of undue deliberation belonged to 
Mr. Thorpe's conception of the character, and I am 
sure that he overdid the very well-conceived simper 
of self-satisfaction with which he endowed the 
egregious Torvald. Otherwise, his performance was 
excellent, an original character-study, and, in the 
last act, luminous and daring. I-t justified Nora's 
action more thoroughly than did Mr. Waring's ; one 


felt it really impossible for her to come to terms with 
this weakly violent egoist. Mr. Charrington resumed 
his old part of Rank, and played it effectively ; but 
the music which accompanies his last scene with 
Nora is a great mistake. Mr. Fulton's Krogstad 
promised excellently, but became too rough and loud 
as his scenes went on. The children were very 
cleverly played by Misses Ethel Rayner and Maud 
Evelyn, and their scene went admirably. 

Mr. Ben Greet's "cheap Shakespeare" season at 
the Olympic opened last week with a highly meri- 
torious performance of Hamlet. * Mr. Nutcombe Gould 
is an imposing and quite intelligent Hamlet, by no 
means brilliant or poetical, but equally remote from 
ill-taste or eccentricity. I know how hopeless it is, 
but. simply to unburden my own conscience, I would 
beg him to give more attention to verbal and syllabic 
accuracy in his delivery of the text. He found in 
Miss Lily Hanbury an Ophelia of proportionate 
stature and talent. Her rendering of the part was 
competent rather than exquisite, but competent it was ; 
and her mad scene, if not pathetic, was distinctly 
clever. Mr. Courtenay Thorpe again distinguished 
himself as the Ghost ; Mr. Ben Greet made an amus- 
ing Polonius, and Mr. G. R. Foss was a spirited Laertes. 
I did not notice any very striking talent in the other 
performers, but they were all well up to their work. 
* May 10 25. 




26th May. 

THERE is only one word for Mr. Hare's revival of 
The Hobby-Horse* at the Court Theatre, and that word 
is delightful. I don't know when I have spent so 
refreshing an evening in the theatre. It is just the 
play for this season, keeping the audience in a cool 
ripple of amusement, not plunging it, like a roaring 
farce, into a vapour-bath of gross laughter. Here is 
an instance they are not infrequent of a play that 
has improved with keeping. When it was new, eleven 
years ago, I fancy we treated it rather churlishly. 
What I myself said of it I do not remember; but 
certainly the impression I had retained of it did not 
lead me to anticipate the pleasure with which I saw it 
again. We came to it, probably, with too definite 
and exacting expectations. It was called a comedy, 
and thus distinguished from the farces with which 
Mr. Pinero had just been regaling us ; it purported, 
moreover, to have a satiric purpose; but we somehow 
could not refer it to any known class of comedy, and 
the satiric purpose seemed to be, like Mr. Chevy 
* May 15 June 4. 


Slime in Martin Chuzzlewit, always "round the 
corner," but never visible and tangible. Now that 
we are no longer bound to classify it and make up 
pur minds about it, these troubles vanish. If a 
docket it must have, let us call it a fantastic comedy 
or comic fantasy. The fable is certainly improbable, 
the long arm of coincidence intervening rather obtru- 
sively; and the dialogue is distinctly tinged with 
deliberate quaintness. Its wording is ingenious and 
admirable ; Mr. Pinero's literary skill has never, per- 
haps, been more happily manifest ; but the conscious 
humorist has throughout the upper hand of the 
conscientious dramatist, so that the play, though 
decidedly not a farce, must be called' a comedy 
with a difference. As for the satiric purpose, it 
escapes me as much as ever ; but I now do not care 
a jot about it. There seems to be some intention of 
satire either upon philanthropy in general or upon 
philanthropy as restricted to a particular class, the 
philanthropist's hobby. But all that is really shown, 
so far as I can make out, is that a lady who cannot 
endure bad smells ought not to try slumming, and 
that "decayed jockeys" and deserving jockeys are 
not always synonymous. I prefer, then, to ignore 
the satiric purpose (of which, after all, Mr. Pinero 
may be quite innocent), and simply to enjoy the 
pleasant embarrassments arising from a conjuncture 
of self-will and unwisdom with mischievous chance. 


The whole fabric of the play glisters and sparkles 
with happy humour. You are sorry when it is over, 
and you have to bid good-bye to these whimsical 
creatures of a genial fantasy. And it was actually 
called cynical when it was new ! 

Oddly enough, it distinctly gains by being not 
quite so well played as it was at first. Mr. Waring, 
as the Rev. Noel Brice, and Mrs. Kendal as Mrs. 
Jermyn, made the ''clerical error" on which the 
second and third acts turn a little too serious and 
distressing. Mr. Waring excited our sympathies too 
vividly, and Mrs. .KendaPs dignity and feeling were 
out of place in so fantastic a situation. Mr. Frank 
Gillmore and Miss May Harvey play these parts well, 
yet not too well. They do not make them painfully 
real to us. Mr. Fred Kerr's Pinching is a capital 
piece of comedy, and Miss Mona Oram, being less 
subtle and more straightforward than Mrs. Tree, 
makes Constance Moxon less real and more agree- 
able. Mr. Hare's Spencer Jermyn was delightful from 
the first, and is as good as ever; Mr. Charles Groves 
is excellent as Shattock; Mr. Gilbert Hare is bright 
and pleasant as Tom Clarke. Mrs. Porcher alone 
a creation which would render The Hobby -Horse 
memorable if it had not another point in its favour 
has fallen on evil days. Miss Susie Vaughan makes 
her a conventional caricature; in the hands of the late 
Mrs. Gaston Murray she was a portrait from the life. 


The British Drama has been enriched during the past 
week with two original plays: A Court of Honour * 
by Messrs. John Lart and Charles Dickinson, at the 
Royalty, and Belle Belair,\ by Mr. Ralph Lumley, at 
the Avenue. In each case well-known and doubtless 
well-paid actors have been engaged ; in each case the 
management has evidently gone to great expense in 
mounting and dresses ; and in each case it ought to 
have been manifest to any one of ordinary competence, 
on merely reading the manuscript, that nothing short 
of a miracle could make the play a success. And 
every year sees at least a score of such productions. 
The regret is foolish and unprofitable, I know; but 
I cannot help thinking now and then what a magni- 
ficent Endowed Theatre we could have if only we 
could somehow impound the money squandered year 
by year on enterprises which have not from the outset 
a glimmer of hope in them. 

Let me hasten to say that, in so classing these two 
plays, I am recklessly backing my own judgment. 
They were both received with unmixed and unstinted 
applause by the first-night audience, or, in the con- 
secrated phrase, " produced with every appearance of 
success." I have not happened to see what other 
critics have said of them. I rely entirely on my 
own feeling that there is not enough matter in them, 
not enough attractiveness of any sort, legitimate or 
* May 18 June 5 (?). t May 19 29. 


illegitimate, to enable them to compete with other 
entertainments. It is not precisely that they are bad 
plays. Worse plays, not only morally but artistically, 
have oftentimes succeeded. The trouble is simply 
that there is no vitality in them. They mean nothing, 
and are nothing. They do not really exist. 

Messrs. Lart and Dickinson evidently started out 
with the best intentions, even, one may say, with a 
highly creditable ambition. They wanted to write 
a serious, elevated, emotional drama, culminating in 
a scene of great power and originality for so they 
no doubt described to themselves the " Court of 
Honour" which gives the play its name. Unfor- 
tunately, their way of working up to this effect was to 
pile psychological inconsequences on physical im- 
probabilities, to animate their characters with the 
conventional idealisms and cynicisms of fourth-rate 
fiction, and to make them talk a strange high-flown 
jargon, probably intended for "literary" dialogue. 
And when the Court of Honour was at last reached 
it proved to be novel enough, indeed, but only in 
virtue of its solemn absurdity. The authors, in short, 
had gone to the theatre, not to life, for their material, 
yet, in their studies of the theatre, had not even learnt 
the trick of theatrical effect. Mr. Fred Terry and Miss 
Calhoun, Mr. Abingdon and Mr. Fulton, entered heart 
and soul into their parts, and the first-night success 
was entirely due to their sincerity and fervour. 


Mr. Lumley's Belle Belair is a much less ambitious 
and, in some ways, a more able piece of work. Its 
fault is its exceeding tenuity both of motive and of 
workmanship. The story of the children changed at 
birth is incalculably ancient, violently improbable, 
and inexpressibly uninteresting. Never was a more 
trumpery theme hammered out over four acts. Mr. 
Pinero once defined a comedy as "a farce by a 
deceased author ; " Mr. Lumley's definition seems to 
be, " a farce which is not funny." True, he calls his 
play simply a "play," not a comedy; but a trick of 
nomenclature, though it may baffle criticism, cannot 
allay boredom. There are, however, some amusing 
scenes and episodes in the nondescript production, 
and Mrs. John Wood and Mr. Weedon Grossmith, 
two of the best, if not the two best, comedians of 
our day, seize upon every opportunity offered them. 
Mr. Martin Harvey, a young actor of versatile talent, 
is excellent in a colourless part; and Mr. John Beau- 
champ, Mr. Athol Forde, Miss Irene Vanbrugh, and 
Miss Louise Moody are all good. 

If they have done nothing else, the Independent 
Theatre Ibsen performances at the Globe have brought 
into prominence the remarkable intelligence and ori- 
ginality of Mr. Courtenay Thorpe. His Gregers 
Werle in The Wild Duck* was a very spirited sketch 

* May 1721 (afternoon performances). See Theatrical 
World of 1894, p. 136. 


of a very difficult part. It suffered, like his Helmer, 
from hasty preparation, and there were touches in it 
which seemed to me misconceived; but, whatever 
its defects, it was a most able effort at character- 
creation. Mr. Laurence Irving showed a very in- 
telligent appreciation of the humour of Hialmar 
Ekdal, but his technical resources are as yet scarcely 
adequate to such an exacting part. Mr. James Welch 
was good as old Ekdal, but did not bring out the 
character so clearly as I should have expected. Mr. 
Charrington gave a marked physiognomy to Relling, 
and Mr. Leonard Outram was good as old Werle. 
Miss Kate Phillips was rather out of her element 
in the part of Gina, but Miss Ffolliott Paget was 
excellent as Mrs. Sorby, and Miss Winifred Fraser 
repeated her pathetically beautiful rendering of little 
Hedvig. The whole production suffered, on the first 
afternoon, from insufficient rehearsal, the last two 
acts in particular dragging deplorably. 

Though! have not been able to follow Mile. Jane 
May's performances at the Royalty* so assiduously 

* In the course of her season (May 17 June 12), Mile. 
Jane May produced La Petite Fadette, A ce Soir, Comme elles sont 
toutes, Le Corbeau et le Renard, Le Monde oh Von s'enmiie, 
Monsieur et Madame Pierrot, Panvre Petit, Le Gamin de Paris, 
Un Mart dans du Coton, Les Amours de Cleopatre, Les Premiers 
Armes de Pierrot, Si jamais je te pince, En bonne Fortune. 
The Censor vetoed Le Fiacre 7/7. 


as I should have wished, I can testify that this 
charming actress has lost none of her freshness and 
piquancy. Her imitation of Sarah Bernhardt in A ce 
Soir! is by no means the best we have seen, but the 
burlesque as a whole is gay and amusing, and M. 
Didier is excellent as the Director. Of Le Monde on 
Fon s'ennut'e, I saw enough to assure me that the 
performance was good all round, and that Mile. Jane 
May was still an ideal Suzanne. On the other hand, 
I cannot say that her two performances in dumb show 
Le Corbeau et le Renard and Monsieur et Madame 
Pierrot have cured me of my heresies regarding this 
form of art. 

Mr. Wilson Barrett appeared as Othello* at the 
Lyric Theatre on Saturday evening, amid the usual 
scene of enthusiasm, treble and quadruple recalls, 
speech, and all the rest of it. His treatment of the 
part was devoid of poetry or elevation, but sufficiently 
intelligent and dramatic to interest the uncritical 
spectator. One must gratefully admit, indeed, that 
there is life and movement in the whole revival. 
A distinguished performance it is not, either on the 
part of Mr. Barrett or of his comrades; but at least 
it is not a dead-alive spectacular solemnity. One 
could forgive the dry superficiality of Mr. Barrett's 
emotional expression, if his diction were not so pain- 
fully faulty. He inordinately elongates one syllable 
* May 2229. 

"OTHELLO." 145 

in a line generally an unimportant one, a preposi- 
tion or a prefix and huddles all the rest together, 
as though he felt he had lingered too long over 
his favourite on or un, and must needs make up for 
lost time. These meaningless retardations and 
accelerations are very distressing when applied to 
Shakespeare's verse, and complicated by the hollow 
throat-voice which Mr. Barrett assumes in emotional 
passages. He speaks the words of the part with 
tolerable accuracy; I presume "Away at once with 
either love or jealousy " was a momentary slip of the 
tongue. But it cannot have been a slip of the tongue 
that led him to spoil the most magnificent dramatic 
invention in all Shakespeare, by saying 

" I took by the throat the circumcised dog 
And smote him thus thus I " 

This reduplication is quite indefensible. The whole 
point of the thing lies in the lightning-like sudden- 
ness and singleness, so to speak, of the word and the 
blow. Miss Maud Jeffries made a pleasant but not 
very poetical Desdemona ; Mr. Franklin McLeay was 
a rather too straightforward lago (but that is a better 
fault than over-subtlety) ; Mr. Ambrose Manning was 
a capital Roderigo ; and Miss Frances Ivor played 
Emilia with force and discretion. 





St. Paul's, 2qt/i May. 

OF all the amazing delusions that ever entered mortal 
brain, the most astounding, surely, is the idea 'that 
Ibsen has no humour, and that, when he writes a 
comic speech or scene, he does not intend it to 
be laughed at. It is true that many people pretend 
to be under this delusion simply because they find 
it the most convenient way of keeping up the Anti- 
Ibsen superstition. They are not by any means such 
fools as they look. Hating Ibsen with the utmost 
sincerity, they think it their bounden duty to discredit 
him by every means in their power; and one of the 
easiest methods, and quite the astutest, is to pretend 
that they triumph over him when they laugh at his 
comic characters and scenes. The trick is rendered 
to some extent plausible by the fact that Ibsen blends 
the comic and the tragic elements of life more in- 
timately than other dramatists. 

Tal^e for instance The Wild Duck, acted last week 
by the Independent Theatre Society. If there ever 
was a comic character in literature, or on the stage, 
that character is Hialmar Ekdal. He is comic to the 
point of caricature. Ibsen has concentrated in his 
single person every ridiculous feature of naive and 
pretentious egoism, and has deliberately placed him 


in a series of the most ludicrous situations. He is as 
comic as Sancho Panza, or Malvolio, or Mr.- Micawber. 
The actor who should fail to keep the theatre in a 
roar at his monstrous selfishness and laziness, and 
posing self-pity, would be a bungler indeed. 

Here are one or two of his traits : He has promised 
to bring home some sweets for his little daughter from 
the dinner-party he has been at, and having forgotten 
them, he thinks to make up to her by producing the 
menu of the feast. " Sit down and read it," he says, 
"and I'll describe to you how the dishes taste." He 
tells how his father, when confronted with disgrace, 
put a pistol to his head, but had not the courage 
to fire. "Can you understand it?" he cries: "he, 
a soldier ! He who had shot nine bears, and was 
descended from two lieutenant-colonels one after 
the other, of course ! " Then in the next breath he 
goes on to tell how, when 'his father was condemned, 
he, Hialmar, pointed the same pistol at his own breast. 
"But you didn't fire?" says Gregers. "No," he 
replies: "at the decisive moment I won the victory 
over myself. I remained in life. 1 can assure you 
it takes some courage to choose life under those 
circumstances." These are fair specimens of his 
sayings and doings throughout the play. I think 
the caricature is laid on a little too thick, especially 
about the lieutenant-colonels. But can anything be 
more obvious than their comic intention ? 


Here, now, is the Daily Telegraph criticism of the 
Independent Theatre performance : " Why was it that 
an outburst of irreverent laughter unduly disturbed 
the reverential attitude of the Ibsenites ? But so it 
was, and as ill-luck would have it the ' Master ' laid 
himself out all the afternoon for ribald jests. . . . No 
one was able to decide if The Wild Duck is the very 
funniest play ever written, or a desperately serious 
problem. Has Ibsen any sense of humour at all, 
or is he the funniest fellow who ever put pen to 
paper? Is he poking fun at us all as is done in the 
most brilliant fashion by his very cleverest supporter ? 
For our own part, since Mr. W. S. Gilbert wrote 
Engaged and Tom Cobb, no play was ever written so 
exquisitely ludicrous as The Wild Duck. We shrewdly 
suspect that Mr. Laurence Irving shares our opinion, 
for he played Hialmar Ekdal, the sublime egoist, so 
magnificently that the house pealed with laughter." 

Of course, as I said before, the writer of this 
notice is not nearly so stupid as he pretends to be. 
He is simply carrying on the Anti-Ibsen campaign 
with what he regards as fine tactical address. The 
day for foul-mouthed abuse is past, and a subtler 
policy is now demanded. What can be simpler, and 
with the great public more effective, than to give out 
that the laughter, for which Ibsen is bidding all 
through with almost inartistic emphasis, is "ribald" 
laughter at "the Master's" expense? Simple the 


method is, undoubtedly; but what should we think 
of a critic who wrote of Henry IV. : " Has Mr. 
Shakespeare no sense of humour at all, or is he the 
funniest fellow who ever put pen to paper? We 
shrewdly suspect that Mr. Beerbohm Tree shares 
our opinion, for he played Sir John Falstaff, the 
sublime egoist, so magnificently that the house 
pealed with laughter." Do not accuse me of 
burlesquing the critic's deliverances. The substitution 
of Falstaff for Ekdal does not make the criticism 
one whit more ridiculous. 

The simple fact is that The Wild Duck, as this gentle- 
man quite justly says, is one of the most " exquisitely 
ludicrous" plays ever written. Its humour is bitter 
and brutal, if you like. Tell me that the laughter 
which Ibsen here wrings from you is disagreeable and 
depressing, and I don't for a moment deny it; but 
tell me that you are laughing not at Hialmar Ekdal 
but at Henrik Ibsen, and you place me in the painful 
dilemma of having to doubt either your candour or 
your intelligence. To me, I own, the play would be 
almost intolerably Swiftian were it not for the pathetic 
figure of little Hedvig, a creation of absolute beauty 
and tenderness. Yet Hedvig serves rather to em- 
phasise than to relieve the grim comedy of her sur- 
roundings, and in the ultimate effect of the play, 
laughter the harsh laughter of disillusionment 
largely predominates. 


This strange idea that one must never laugh at 
the work of a man who is nothing if not a great 
humorist, crops up in the strangest quarters. Not 
long ago a most intelligent and able comedian 
was studying a part in one of Ibsen's plays, which 
he. ultimately played to perfection, and with great 
applause. In the course of the rehearsals he came 
to me with a good deal of embarrassment, mentioned 
one of the most delightfully humorous lines in his 
part, and said, "Aren't you a little afraid of this? 
Don't you think they'll laugh at it?" "Good 
heavens ! " I said, " I should hope so ! What do 
you expect them to do? It's a deliciously funny 
line, and if they don't laugh at it you'll miss your 
effect altogether." "Oh!!" he said, relieved, but at 
the same time surprised. The line, as a matter of 
fact, "went" exceedingly well; it was one of the 
gems of the part; but the actor would have been 
quite content to have had it altered or cut out, no 
doubt because the Anti-Ibsenite critics had in- 
dustriously dinned in his ears that laughter at "the 
Master's" plays must necessarily be "ribald" and 
" irreverent." 

I am far from meaning that at Ibsen performances 
the public never laughs in the wrong place. Details 
of Norwegian manners are apt to strike people 
as comic, for, globe-trotters though we be, we 
English are full of that provincialism which cannot 


distinguish the unaccustomed from the ludicrous. 
There are cases, too, no doubt, in which things 
beautiful and touching in themselves strike a chord 
of vulgarity in the public and are greeted with guffaws. 
At the moment I can think only of Mrs. Solness and 
her dolls; other instances may perhaps occur to my 
readers. But as a matter of fact, inopportune laughter 
is far less to be dreaded at Ibsen performances than 
the absurd notion so carefully fostered by the Anti- 
Ibsenite faction that they are solemnities at which it 
is profanation to smile. I would beg playgoers to 
take heart of grace and believe that when Ibsen 
draws a comic character he intends him to be 
laughed at. 



2nd June. 

IT is curious to note how Lyceum methods are 
penetrating not to say vitiating our treatment 
of Shakespeare on every hand. One might have 
imagined that Mr. Ben Greet, being, "by the very 
nature of his enterprise, dispensed from the obliga- 
tion of scenic display, would revel in his freedom 
and seize the opportunity to let Shakespeare tell his 
own story after his own fashion. But not a bit of 
it ! We must have all the drawbacks of a spectacular 


Lyceum setting without its beauties. The first two 
acts must be remodelled so that almost their whole 
action may pass in one "set," a roughly effective 
but topographically absurd representation of the 
Piazzetto and a corner of the Riva, with the Doge's 
Palace in the background. To this end, all the 
Belmont episodes are crowded together in the third 
act, in which Portia makes her first appearance; 
while the precious scene for which so much is 
sacrificed becomes as conventional as the " street " 
of a classic comedy, and it finally appears that 
Shylock is the Doge's next-door neighbour ! And 
then, because Sir Henry Irving at the Lyceum fills 
up pauses in the action with living pictures of 
street life gondolas coming and going, fruit-sellers, 
maskers, and what not Mr. Greet, with a handful 
of supers and ballet-dancers, must needs essay the 
same effects. Even at the best, with all Sir 
Henry Irving's resources and stage-management, 
these interludes are of questionable advantage. To 
fill a street-scene with life and bustle for a moment 
is merely to emphasise its emptiness when the stage 
is cleared for action, and some necessary question 
of the play is then to be considered. But Mr. 
Greet, with his small resources, cannot even for a 
moment attain any real effect of life and bustle. 
After Antonio, Shylock, and Bassanio have had the 
whole scene to themselves the very central point of 


Venice, be it noted for as long as they require it, the 
Venetian populace heaves in sight in the persons 
of two small boys ! What can be the use of this, 
save to throw into relief the unreality of the whole 
thing ? And the hopelessly unconvincing revels . of 
the very limited ballet-corps serve precisely the same 
purpose. Mr. Greet doubtless knows his business, 
and has found that this aping of the Lyceum 
impresses country audiences; all I can say is that 
the effects are childish in themselves, and afford no 
artistic compensation for the reckless rearrangement 
of the text which they involve. Similarly, in mount- 
ing Romeo and Juliet at Camberwell last year, Mr. 
Greet carefully reproduced the Lyceum setting of 
the tomb-scene, placing Juliet on a lofty bier in 
front, and making Romeo enter from the back. 
This setting is, to my thinking, bad at best, and 
obviously the reverse of what Shakespeare had in 
mind. It may be defensible, however, on a large 
stage and when Mrs. Patrick Campbell is the Juliet. 
On a smaller stage, and with a less exquisite Juliet 
to occupy the obstructive bier, there is absolutely 
nothing to be said for it. Mr. Greet would do very 
much better for art, and no worse, I am sure, for 
himself, if he frankly accepted the situation and 
said to his public : "I cannot give you Lyceum 
archaeology and luxury, but I can give you what 
is not to be had at the Lyceum Shakespeare's 


scenes, not more than necessarily abridged, and "in 
the order in which he wrote them." 

Apart from this scenic pretentiousness, the render- 
ing of the Merchant of Venice* is by no means a 
bad one. Mr. Nutcombe Gould's Shylock is more 
impressive to the eye than thrilling to the dramatic 
sense. His physique assigns him to the Kemble 
rather than the Kean school of actors, the school 
of dignity rather than of passion. It is not for 
a moment imaginable that Shakespeare pictured 
Shylock at all as Mr. Gould presents him. The 
red-haired comic Hebrew of pre-Macklin days was 
liker Shakespeare's conception of the man. The 
brutality of Antonio's conduct to Shylock becomes 
doubly incredible when that eminent financier wears 
the aspect of a prophet from the Sistine Chapel. 
But Mr. Gould speaks his lines like a man of 
intelligence and culture (with a slightly defective 
ear for verse), and does not offend us by affectations 
or vulgarities. Whether purposely or not, he indi- 
cated a piece of " business " which struck me as 
good. In addressing Antonio shortly before he 
proposes the bond, he happens to touch him on 
the breast, and Antonio draws away with a marked 
gesture of disgust. The idea conveyed to me was 
that it was this which suggested to Shylock the 
"merry sport" about the pound of flesh. Mr. 
* May 26 29; June 9 (afternoon); and June II ancl 12. 


Gould had probably no such design, or he would 
have timed the touch differently and brought out 
the idea more clearly ; but it struck me as a possible 
and not ineffective' method of giving a little greater 
plausibility -to the incident. Miss Lily Hanbury 
made a stately Portia, and delivered her speeches 
with just emphasis. Charles Macklin and his 
daughter are said to have been estranged for years 
by a quarrel as to the correct way of speaking one 
phrase in the address on Mercy. Miss Macklin 
insisted on saying, "'Tis mightiest in the mightiest /" 
her father maintained that it should be, "Tis 
mightiest in the mightiest." Miss Hanbury follows 
Macklin, and in so doing she has superficial logic 
as well as authority on her side. But, to my 
thinking, this is a case in which poetic feeling 
should override logic. There is a petty rationalism 
about "'Tis mightiest in the mightiest;" it is 
argumentative, not emotional ; it has a tone of 
retort, not of appeal ; it almost implies some 
previous allusion to "the mightiest," expressed or 
understood. If Miss Macklin spoke the words 
smoothly, with an equal emphasis on the two 
" mightiests," I think hers was the better way. 
The phrase would arise in Portia's mind, I take 
it, "full-formed, like Venus rising from the sea," 
and she would not trouble about its anatomy and 
articulation, but simply make the most of its beauty. 


Portia, after all, was a woman ; her rhetoric came 
from the heart, not from the schools; so that in 
this case Miss Macklin's instinct was perhaps more 
to be trusted than her father's logic. But I must 
apologise for discussing at such length a mere point 
of diction an art in which no one nowadays takes 
the slightest interest. 

I spoke some weeks ago of Mr. Louis Calvert's 
production of Antony and Cleopatra^ which has 
now been transferred from the Queen's Theatre, 
Manchester, to the Olympic. The most important 
change in the cast is the substitution of Mr. Alfred 
Kendrick for Mr. George Black as Octavius. Mr. 
Kendrick (who also makes a very pleasant Bassanio 
in The Merchant of Venice) gives us no cause to 
regret the change; but he speaks much too loudly 
the last words of the play, "And then to Rome!" 
Miss Achurch, as Cleopatra, seemed to me to have 
improved a good deal in the earlier scenes ; if her 
performance as a whole does not quite rise to the 
ideal of the character, let her remember that 
Eleonora Duse herself fell equally short of it. Miss 
Achurch, by-the-bye, like Duse and Miss Rehan, 

+ May 24, 25, 27, 28, 29, and June 5 (afternoon performances). 
June I 5 (evening performances). Macbeth was also performed 
(Macbeth, Mr. Louis Calvert; Lady Macbeth, Miss Laura 
Johnson) on May 31 and June 7 10, with afternoon perform- 
ances on June 2 and 12. 


indulges very daringly in inarticulate noises. I wish 
forgive the jingle that she would let us substitute 
"sparingly" for "daringly." These audacities are 
seldom felicities. The scenery (painted by local 
Manchester artists) comes out very effectively on 
the Olympic stage. Even Mr. Calvert, I think, 
succumbs to the Lyceum influence towards the 
close of the production, and sacrifices Shakespeare 
to spectacle and that "incidental music" on which 
Sir Henry Irving has been discoursing so pleasantly. 
There were times, in the later acts, when we seemed 
to have been transported from the Olympic and 
Antony and Cleopatra to Covent Garden and A'ida. 
Even Cleopatra's "business" was timed to the 
music, and one would scarcely have been surprised 
if Miss Achurch, who is always rather inclined to 
chant her words, had broken out into a "recitative 
and aria." 



qth June. 

Miss ESTELLE BURNEY, who evidently possesses a 
good deal of dramatic instinct, has conceived the 


itfea of confronting in the same play two antagonistic 
types of feminine character bringing the impenitent 
Mrs. Tanqueray face to face with the penitent Mrs. 
Haller. The title she has chosen, Settled out of Court* 
does her work some injustice. It is quibbling and 
frivolous, whereas the play is tragical or nothing; but 
we feel at the same time that a really good title, a 
durable title, so to speak, would have been wasted on 
work which is certainly tentative and immature. Miss 
Burney has both observations and ideas, but she does 
not yet know how to present and marshal them. 
Her central character, a morbidly passionate and 
morbidly conscientious Woman, is well conceived. 
There is even a touch of poetry in the idea of making 
the moral phantoms which beset a narrow and ill- 
regulated intelligence assume the guise of .physical 
hauntings and hound their victim into madness. It 
is not only on deeds of violence that the Eumenides 
attend. They are the emanations of a sickly con- 
science, and it matters little whether the offence 
which nominally engenders them be great or small, 
real or imaginary. Moyra's fate, then and this is 
subtle and true is of her own making. She conjures 
up the disaster that finally descends upon her. If 
she could take a sane view of things, and dismiss 
from her mind the superstition of punitive forces, 
Stealthy and inexorable, reducing life, to a goody- 
* Globe Theatre, June -3 (afternoon). 


goody anecdote, with the mojal printed in' red, she 
might quite well retain her husband's love (such as 
it is) and live and die as happy as any one else. In 
the larger sense, no doubt, life is a moral anecdote; 
but the sins which are punished in this case (if 
Moyra could only be got to see it) are not her 
individual misdeeds, but the sins of her ancestors, 
who gave her an ill-balanced brain, and of her pastors 
3nd masters, who, to say the least of it, did nothing 
to restore equilibrium. Moyra, of course, cannot be 
got to see it on this side of the grave; but the main 
defect of the play is that we cannot even tell whether 
Miss Burney sees it. At some expense of imagina- 
tion, I have disengaged what I take to be her theme; 
she has not had the art to make it, what it ought to 
have been, evident yet not obtrusive. I say her 
theme, be it noted, not her thesis; there is all the 
difference in the world between the two things. No 
dramatist is bound to -teach, a lesson; but we inevi- 
tably require that he or she should indicate a point of 
view. Miss Burney having failed to do so with any 
distinctness, we have at times an Uneasy feeling that 
she is painting these sordid scenes for their own sake, 
and taking pleasure in exhibiting a knowledge of the 
world which is little more than cynical knowingness. 
This suspicion, I am sure, is quite unjust; it arises 
simply from the fact that Miss Burney stands too 
close to her characters and has not the art to see 


them, and make us see them, in a truly significant 

Again, Miss Burney has not achieved the very 
difficult feat of lending variety to a monotonous 
character. It is essential that we should realise how 
Moyra's eternal self-torturing depression gets upon 
her husband's nerves, but it is no less essential that 
it should not get upon our nerves. Only a highly- 
skilled dramatist could achieve this paradoxical task; 
Miss Burney may one day acquire the skill, but as 
yet she has it not. She fails, indeed, in a very much 
simpler point of technique the carrying on of the 
interest from one act to the next. Her first and 
second acts are little plays in themselves; in each 
case, after the curtain has fallen, there is no impera- 
tive reason for it to rise again. We feel a general 
interest in the further fortunes of the characters, but 
so we do at the end of most plays, unless the stage 
is strewn with corpses. The particular crisis or train 
of events on which our attention has been concen- 
trated is over and done with, and we are not made to 
divine or desire any inevitable development. Between 
the third and fourth acts the transition is inevitable, 
the interest is duly carried forward. If Miss Burney 
will consider how much greater is the momentum of 
the action at the end of her third act than at the ends 
of her first and second acts, she will realise the defect 
at which I am aiming. It may or may not be neces- 


sary that the action of a play should be complete and 
rounded off at the end of the last act, but it is 
essential that at the ends of the earlier acts it should 
be obviously (and if possible tantalisingly) incomplete. 
Miss Burney's dialogue is sometimes witty, sometimes 
crude, sometimes stilted, never quite easy and natural. 
That, too, is an art to be acquired. 

The acting was fair without great distinction. Miss 
Janette Steer as Moyra played with intelligence and 
force, but her voice in the more emotional passages 
proved very intractable. Miss Granville seemed 
rather embarrassed (and no wonder) by the audacities 
of Mrs. Alleyn, but played the part, if one may say 
so without paradox, agreeably. Mr. Lewis Waller 
was good as the sketchily-drawn Sir Gerald Delacourt, 
and Mr. Charles Fulton threw a good deal of sincerity 
into the dumbly devoted Lord Mottram. Mr. Sydney 
Brough was excellent as the Hon. Bobby Haigh, and 
Mr. Holmes-Gore played a philosophic valet with 
point and discretion. 

" Maid of Athens, ere we part," sang Byron, "Give,, 
oh give me back my heart ! " Had I been one of 
the paying public at the Opera Comique on Thursday 
night, I should have been inclined to adapt Byron's 
distich, and sing " Give, oh give me back my money! " 
That was not the feeling of the majority, however, 
for, though -the first act fell flat, and one indescribably 

silly episode was received with groans, the second 



act was loudly applauded. The authors of The Maid 
of Athens* Messrs. Charles Edmund and Chance 
Newton, have not even that happy knack of rhyming 
which in some measure redeems the better sort of 
musical farces; and, having poor material to work 
upon, Mr. Osmond Carr is not at his best in the 
music. It was rumoured at the end of the first act 
that one of the comedians had forgotten his part at 
the critical moment, and omitted a speech which 
should have explained the plot of the play. Heavens ! 
what a speech that must have been ! No wonder the 
poor fellow's brain reeled. In the absence of the 
cosmic word that should have shed light and order 
through chaos, The Maid of Athens may fairly claim 
to hold the record for incoherence. Not for a single 
moment was the smallest connection discoverable 
between any two incidents, or the faintest glimmer of 
reason in anything that was said or done. In point 
of vulgarity, too, the production takes an eminent, if 
not a solitary, position, and may thus be said to 
combine in a unique degree the characteristic qualities 
of this class of work. Mile. Louise Beaudet and Miss 
Claire Romaine shared almost equally the honours 
of the evening, both showing cleverness of the most 
pronounced music-hall type. Miss Constance Collier 
made a very handsome " Maid of Athens," and Miss 
Cicely Richards bestowed her genuine comic talent on 
* June 3 July 3. 


a thankless part. Of the male performers Mr. Fred 
Storey chiefly distinguished himself, by agility not 
unseasoned with humour. Mr. Lonnen worked hard 
to very little purpose, and Messrs. W. Elton, Charles 
Weir, and Cecil Ramsey did all they could with the 
scantiest opportunities. 

Of Mile. Jane May's productions I have been able 
to see only Les Amours de Cl'eopatre* an old-fashioned 
but exceedingly amusing farce by M. Marc Michel. 
Its humour is purely fantastic, without any of the 
satiric sub-intention which ran through even the wildest 
extravagances of Labiche. There is not even any 
constructive ingenuity in the farce, as in the elaborate 
pigeon-hole vaudevilles of which Hennequin estab- 
lished the type. We simply see a number of people 
doing extravagant things for no better reason than 
that they are laughable; and so genuine is the author's 
comic spirit that, despite the extreme simplicity of 
his method, one cannot refuse to laugh, and that 
heartily. Mile. Jane May is delightful as the lady 
who takes such heroic measures to vindicate her 
property in the gentleman who ought to be her 
husband ; and M. Le Gallo, as that luckless personage, 
is comic in his somewhat mannered way. 
* See note, p. 143. 




i6/*// June. 

MR. SYDNEY GRUNDY has produced at the Hay- 
market a spirited translation of a comedy by the 
elder Dumas, Un Mariage sous Louis XV. I am 
told by those who have read the original that Mr. 
Grundy has followed it very closely; and therein, 
he has done well. One can take a rational interest 
and pleasure in seeing a play of Dumas's done into 
English by a man who thoroughly understands the 
art of terse and pointed dialogue. Of course one 
would rather see him exercising that art on his own 
account ; but since, for the moment, he prefers not 
to do so, he does the next best thing in placing his- 
literary skill at the service of Dumas. If we cannot 
have English literature, by all means let us have 
French literature; this gay and graceful trifle was 
well worth translating. I am sometimes thought 
to be prejudiced against this class of work, but that 
is quite a mistake. Translation I applaud; and! 
by translation I understand, not necessarily a word- 
for-word rendering of the original, but such a tactful 


transcript of it as shall best convey the author's 
meaning to an English audience. It is adaptation 
that I deplore, except in the rarest instances the 
attempt to force foreign character and manners into 
an English dress. Had Mr. Grundy, for instance, 
tried to transmogrify Un Manage sous Louis XV. 
into A Marriage under George II. he would have 
been wasting his own art on spoiling Dumas's. 
There are exceptional cases, indeed farces like The 
Pink Dominoes, fairy-tales like A Pair of Spectacles 
in which adroit adaptation rather improves the 
original. But to adapt a play which pretends for 
a moment to be a serious picture of manners is 
simply to produce a monstrosity, all the more 
deplorable if it happens to be clever ; for it dulls 
people's sense for just observation and delineation, 
and makes them expect and almost demand that 
theatrical manners and character shall be quite 
unlike those of real life. "But," say the champions 
of adaptation, "most French plays are so frankly 
and flagrantly sexual that they must be adapted in 
order to be possible on the English stage." In 
Heaven's name, then, let them remain impossible ! 
It i.s a curious instance of the force of habit that 
people should argue at this time of day as though 
it were a law of nature that every French play should 
in one form or another find its way to the English 
stage. There is no must in the matter. If a French 


play is untranslatable that is an excellent reason for 
letting it alone. 

A Marriage of Convenience* then, is a pleasant, 
graceful, insubstantial comedy, which shows the great 
Alexandre in one of his happiest moods. Sardou 
has rather taken the gloss off it by calmly annexing 
its motive in Divor$ons ! ; but, on the other hand, 
the costumes (which, at the Haymarket, are gorgeous 
beyond words) give it a new gloss of the very 
glossiest The acting is more than adequate Miss 
Winifred Emery altogether delightful, Mr. Cyril 
Maude highly entertaining, Mr. William Terriss a 
little lacking in the grand manner, but handsome 
and effective in his way, Mr. Sydney Valentine 
humorous and forcible, Mr. Holman Clark good, 
and Miss Adrienne Dairolles excellent. Altogether, 
a bright and agreeable entertainment for a summer 

There is a good deal of ability in the acting of 

Mr. Neil Burgess, an American comedian who has 

brought to the Princess's a " picture of New England 

life " by Mr. Charles Barnard, entitled The County 

Fair,\ Mr. Burgess plays Abigail Prue, a maiden 

lady "prim, prudish, and practical," and redeems 

the inherent unpleasantness of the travesty by his 

strongly marked but quite inoffensive humour. The 

" June 5 July 24. Reproduced September 4 November 4. 

t June 5 1 8 (?). 


play is a sort of go-as-you-please variety drama, 
unsophisticated, but at the same time unpretentious, 
and far more human and entertaining than the 
spectacular melodrama of commerce. Mr. Edward 
S. Metcalfe shows a genuine sense of character in 
the part of the stolid and inarticulate New England 
farmer; and Miss Emma Pollock as the waif, 
" Taggs," is cleverly elfish and uncanny. The 
quartettes introduced in the " Husking Bee " scene 
are curious and effective; and curious, but not 
effective, is the horse-race which brings the play to 
a close. The horses run on a rotating stage, so 
that they move at a considerable rate without really 
advancing, while the background moves in the 
opposite direction to produce the illusion of pro- 
gress. But as the scenery in the foreground remains 
stationary, there is no illusion whatever, and the 
effect is simply nightmare-like. In order to produce 
any sort of illusion, everything on the stage would 
have to move; and even then I doubt whether 
American ingenuity would wrest from the late Sir 
Augustus Harris the blue ribbon of the (stage) turf. 

A harmless but quite puerile play entitled An 
Irish Gentleman* by Messrs. D. Christie Murray and 
J. L. Shine, was produced at the Globe Theatre 
last week. It is an ordinary melodrama, plus some 
reminiscences of Charles Lever, and minus the 
* June 9. Ran about five nights. 


scenic effects. A recklessly extravagant Irish squire, 
a pair of plotting villains, and a lovely heiress to 
marry the squire and baffle the spalpeens out of 
these familiar ingredients the authors have concocted 
ihree absolutely vapid but not impossibly tedious 
acts. Mr. J. L. Shine manages to keep the play 
going by means of his expansive and infectious 
geniality; Miss Eva Moore makes a charming 
heroine, taking the best advantage of her small 
opportunities; and Mr. J. B. Gordon, as. a Scotch 
villain a fabulous animal, of course : as who should 
say a snake in Iceland speaks an authentic dialect 
and plays with unobtrusive skill. 

Mr. John Hare has revived Caste* .at the Court 
Theatre with exactly the same company with which 
he played it at the Lyceum in October last.f His 
Eccles is a masterly performance, fully compensating 
in finish of detail for what it lacks in breadth and 
unction. It is in itself true, consistent, and delight- 
ful ; its only fault is that of not being first in the 
field ; and to the majority of playgoers that is no 
fault at all. It is only we old fogies who are haunted 
by other certainly not better-^-incarnations of the 
character. Miss May Harvey and Mr. Gilbert Hare 
make a capital Polly and Sam, and Mr. Frank 
'Gillmore and Miss Mona Oram a passable George 
and Esther. Mr. Frederick Kerr frankly modernises 

* June 10 Jvily-9. t Theatrical World of 1896, p. 293. 


the part of Hawtree, and thereby takes a good deal 
of the point and colour out of it. The day is fast 
approaching when Caste will have to be played in 
the costumes of the 'Sixties. 

A "comedy-drama" in three acts, adapted from 
Augier's Manage d'Ofympe, and produced at the 
Comedy Theatre last Thursday afternoon, exemplified 
to the full the above remarks on the futility of adapta- 
tion. The anonymous adapter, though not devoid 
of a certain ingenuity, has simply obliterated the 
merits of a strong and interesting play, for the 
Honour of the Family* (so he calls his work) represents 
nothing and resembles nothing. It is not even a bad 
copy of a good picture, but rather the picture itself 
painted over, smudged, distorted, mutilated, a thing 
painful and pitiful to behold. All that is best in the 
French is necessarily omitted, and all that remains 
loses its meaning until we have mentally replaced it 
in France. The scheme of the original is pretty 
closely followed, except that the adapter has made his 
courtesan, in the first act, sincere in her love for her 
husband, so that the wanton cruelty of her conduct 
at the last becomes a grave inconsistency instead of a 
logical development of character. This, however, is 
only one among a host of distortions. Even where 
he has kept most faithfully to his original he has done 
it cruel injustice. In Augier's play, for instance, a 
" June 10 (afternoon). 


parvenu enters into a compact with a well-known 
duellist, of good family but bad character, that he 
(the parvenu) is to be allowed, for a consideration of 
fifty thousand francs, to call the duellist out and 
inflict a slight wound upon him, so that, having thus 
"given his proofs" of courage, he may in future be 
exempt from the necessity of righting duels. Such an 
arrangement is at least conceivable in France. It 
may be improbable, it is not absurd. In the English 
play the parvenu, Wickslow, bargains with Sir Vincent 
Grisedale, a man about town, that he (Sir Vincent) is 
to accept a horse-whipping in Hyde Park, and so 
to establish Wickslow's position in London society. 
The thing is too absurd for comment ; it would serve 
no purpose whatever ; we can only regard the pair as 
lunatics, until we re-translate the scene into French, 
and remember that this preposterous "horse-whip- 
ping " is to be taken as the equivalent of a duel, in a 
society where duelling is an established institution. 
This flagrant unreality vitiates every trait of manners 
in the play, and, among other things, deprives the 
catastrophe of all meaning. Miss Eleanor Lane, who 
played the Anglicised Olympe Taverny, has the 
advantage of a good appearance and presence, but is 
as yet deficient in force and variety of expression. 
The production, by the way, demolishes once for all 
the absurd notion that Le Mariage d' Olympe has 
anything to do with The Second Mrs. Tanqueray. 


Energetic as ever, Mr. Tree has revived at Her 
Majesty's, in the course of one week, Trilby* The Red 
Lamp, and The Ballad- Monger , and in each case the 
revival went quite smoothly, and with excellent spirit. 
Clever as it is, I cannot regard Svengali as one of 
Mr. Tree's really great performances. His Demetrius, 
on the other hand, is a masterpiece of what is rather 
loosely termed character-acting. We ought to draw 
a distinction between creating a character and imi- 
tating the external peculiarities of a physical type. 
The author has in this case given Mr. Tree no real 
character to work upon, so that the merit of the 
performance lies almost entirely in the actor's ad- 
mirable observation and reproduction of physical 
traits and mannerisms. Jt is a most able piece of 
acting in an amusingly preposterous play, and the two 
together delighted the audience. Mrs. Tree's Princess 
Claudia is a powerful and memorably picturesque 
performance, and Miss Kate Rorke is good as the 
somewhat insignificant Olga. Miss Dorothea Baird 
appeared as Trilby and as Loyse in The Ballad- 
Monger. She has made Du Maurier's heroine her 
own in right of a sort of predestination, for it 
amounts to nothing less; but her Loyse, which is 
graceful, sincere, and unaffected, proves that her 
talent is not to be measured by her fortuitous fitness 

* Trilby, June 7 if. The Red Lamp and The Ballad- 
Monger ; June 12 July 8. 


for a single part. Miss Rosina Filippi's Madame 
Vinard is, as it was from the outset, one of the very 
best pieces of acting in Trilby. Her sister. Miss 
Gigia Filippi, succeeds her as the maid, Felise, in 
The Red Lamp^ and plays the part brightly and 



2 yd June. 

ONE of the poetic playwrights of the Victorian Era 
has remarked that 

" Gratulation plays the hypocrite 
Rejoicing in an unknown jubilee." 

This distich (treasured in the first instance as a marvel 
of style) recurs to me with a warning note as I sit down 
to review the theatrical history of the past sixty years. 
Js the Jubilee, in this particular sphere, an occasion 
for jubilation ? Or must one ignore the facts of the 
case in order to keep in tune with the world-wide 
chorus ? 

On the whole, as it seems to me, there is no need 
for gratulation to play the hypocrite. There has 
been loss as well as gain during these sixty years, and 
they leave the stage in a chaotic and somewhat pre- 
carious condition ; but the general movement of the 


past thirty years, at any rate, has been upward, and, 
instead of mourning a decline, we have at worst to 
fear that adverse conditions (which it would be folly 
not to recognise) may prove strong enough to cut 
short our advance. 

It may help us to see things in their proportions if 
we contrast the sixty years of Queen Victoria with 
the sixty years of her grandfather, King George the 
Third. A critic of 1820, reviewing the history of the 
theatre since 1 760, would have had some difficulty iti 
giving a reasonably cheerful account of things. At 
the beginning of the reign Garrick was at his zenith, 
surrounded by a company of actors almost as great, 
though not as versatile, as himself Mrs. Gibber, 
Mrs. Pritchard, Mrs. Clive, Mrs. Abington, Barry, 
Macklin, Palmer, King. This generation had all, of 
course, disappeared long ago. Gone, too, were John 
Kemble, Mrs. Siddons, Mrs. Jordan, Miss O'Neill, 
George Frederick Cooke. The one pride of the 
tragic stage Edmund Kean was scarcely its hope. 
Indubitably a great genius, he had never been a self- 
respecting artist, and was already visibly on his 
decline. Macready had as yet scarcely made his 
mark, and there was no sign whatever of a worthy 
successor to Mrs. Siddons or Miss O'Neill. In 
acting, then, the end of the reign showed a notorious 
falling-off as compared with the beginning or the 
middle; and in authorship there was no one to bear 


a moment's comparison with Goldsmith or Sheridan. 
So low had the drama fallen that Sheridan Knowles, 
who made his first essay in this very year (1820), was 
hailed as its regenerator. 

There is no doubt that 1897 can look back to 1837 
more complacently than 1820 could look back to 
1760. Take it all in all, the theatre was then 
on the down-grade : take it all in all, the theatre 
is now on the up-grade. But it must be clearly 
understood that " the theatre " in the second clause 
means a totally different thing from " the theatre " in 
the first clause. The latter half of the Queen's reign 
has seen, not a revival or resuscitation either of the 
drama or of acting, but a renascence in the strict 
sense of the word. The theatre has been " hatched 
over again and hatched different." In 1837, in 1840, 
even down to 1850, the terms "tragedy," "comedy," 
" tragedian," " comedian " meant very much what 
they had meant ever since the Restoration ; now 
they have either become obsolete or entirely altered 
their connotation. We no longer write tragedies or 
comedies, but "plays." The tragedian is as extinct 
as the candle-snuffer, and the comedian, except at 
the music-halls and music-hall theatres, has become 
a " character-actor." The objects and methods of 
Macready were very much the same as those of 
Betterton; the objects and methods of Sir Henry 
Irving, even when he deals with the same material, 


are utterly dissimilar. Think of the times when Mrs. 
Siddons and Mrs. Jordan were hailed as the Tragic 
and the Comic Muse, and each reigned supreme in her 
own sphere ! Nowadays, our Mrs. Jordan plays Lady 
Macbeth, and if we had a Mrs. Siddons we should 
not know what to do with her. She would either 
starve or star the provinces. 

During the first twenty years of the Queen's reign 
the tradition of two centuries the rhetorical tradi- 
tion, we may call it, both in tragedy and comedy 
was in its death-throes. Macready strove hard to 
keep it alive, but his two periods of management 
(Covent Garden 1837-39, and Drury Lane 1841-43) 
were honourable failures. It died, I think, partly of 
its inherent vices, for there is no doubt that the 
second- or third-rate actor of the rhetorical school 
was a terrible personage. But the chief forces which 
made for its destruction were social and literary : the 
growth of London and the invention of stage realism. 
During the first forty years of the century the popula- 
tion of the metropolis had more than doubled, and 
in a city of nearly two million inhabitants it was 
obviously absurd that the privilege of playing the 
"legitimate" drama should be confined to the two 
patent theatres. A host of minor theatres had arisen, 
and it was inevitable that their position should be 
legalised and their disabilities removed. This was 
done by the Act of 1843, which (though it enabled 


Phelps to make a last stand for the old order of 
things, at Sadler's Wells, 1844-62) in reality hastened 
the disintegration of the rhetorical drama. 

The free competition of an unlimited number of 
theatres in a great centre of population necessarily 
tends to beget the Long Run. " Man kommt zu 
schaun, man will am liebsten sehn," says the Manager 
in Faust; and as soon as there is a public large 
enough to make spectacle remunerative, spectacle 
becomes the inevitable card to play. Along with 
the growth of population came improved methods of 
lighting ; and in the struggle of the eye for supremacy 
over the ear and the intelligence, it found invaluable 
allies in the newly-invented gas and limelight. It 
is a significant fact that limelight was first intro- 
duced about 1837 and perfected about 1851. As 
the public increases, moreover, and the claims on its 
attention multiply in (or out of) proportion, the claim 
which is to make itself felt must become ever louder 
and more insistent. In other words, advertisement 
is found to be the great secret of success ; and it soon 
appears that lavish display is the best advertisement. 
Until well on in the present century, I believe (the 
fact is certain, but I cannot lay my hand on the exact 
dates), the newspapers inserted theatrical advertise- 
ments for nothing, and eagerly competed for them ; 
to-day, his advertising bill is one of the most for- 
midable items in a manager's outlay. But the adver- . 


tisement which is directly paid for is never the most 
effective. The great thing is to make people talk, 
and, above all, to surround any given production with 
the opinion, the rumour, of extraordinary popularity. 
So long ago as 1838, Mr. Vincent Crummies had dis- 
covered that if you want people to flock to a theatre, 
you must persuade them that they have no chance of 
getting in ; and, in a large community, the only way 
to beget this sheep-like rush is, as it were, to make a 
play its own advertisement, and keep it going night 
after night. Thus a great many influences concurred 
to force managers to gamble with large stakes for 
large returns to invest great sums of money in one 
production, and then play it for all it was worth. All 
these influences were obviously hostile to the Shake- 
spearian drama and to rhetorical acting. In the first 
place, other and far inferior plays were better suited 
to spectacular treatment. In the second place, the 
addition of spectacular attractions to Shakespeare 
tended to obscure the faults of bad performances and 
distract attention and appreciation from really fine 
acting. In the third place, the conditions of really 
fine acting were still so far realised by the leading 
actors themselves that they would not undertake to 
play the same exhausting part six times a week the 
whole season through. It was because he stood out 
against the long-run system that Macready failed as 
a manager. He spent large sums of money oh 



mounting his "revivals" (a term then ridiculed as 
pretentious), and when one or other of them caught 
the public fancy he was again and again urged to drop 
everything else and (as we should now say) to " boom" 
it. But Macready did not see, or would not admit, 
that the "boom" was a necessity of the age. He 
disdainfully left such methods to the Poet Bunn, 
who, being an ignorant man, and still hampered, 
moreover, by tradition, made little enough of them. 
But the tendencies of the time were with Bunn, not 
with Macready. 

The retirement of Macready in 1851 marked the 
extinction of the great dynasty founded by Betterton, 
or rather by Burbage, and, in his person, consecrated 
by Shakespeare himself. The tradition lingered on at 
Sadler's Wells, in the provinces, and in America, 
where it died only the other day with that fine actor, 
Edwin Booth. In Phelps, in Booth, and in one or 
two stray survivals of minor note, we men of middle 
age have seen enough of the methods of this school 
to assure us that they must, in part at least, be 
recovered if Shakespeare is really to live on the stage. 
Physical grace, elegance and force of diction, freedom 
of passionate expression, can, and must, be attained 
by study, without the vices of exaggeration and 
mannerism which often accompanied them in the 
past. With Charles Kean, who entered upon his 
Princess's management in 1850, began the reign of 


spectacular Shakespeare, intermingled with French 
melodrama, which endures to this day. A man of 
dramatic instinct and some intelligence, but notori- 
ously deficient in physique and voice, Charles Kean 
had to elude the problems of Shakespearian acting 
instead of grappling with them to substitute for the 
effects Shakespeare obviously intended, other effects, 
scenic and histrionic, which he as obviously dreamed 
not of. In this he has been followed by Sir Henry 
Irving, a Charles Kean of greater genius and stronger 
character, who has carried Kean's methods, both of 
acting and of mounting, to their logical and artistic 
perfection. But the main significance of the twenty 
years that intervened between Macready and Irving 
lay, not in Kean's application to Shakespeare of the 
spectacular long-run method, but in the growth of 
what I have called scenic realism, under the influence 
of France, and especially of Scribe. Adaptation from 
the French was no new thing ; it was as old as 
Wycherley and Dryden. But the trick of invention 
and manipulation which, rightly or wrongly, we con- 
nect with the name of Scribe, was, in its way, a new 
thing, and during the early years of the Queen's reign 
it made the French stage an inexhaustible storehouse 
of readily adaptable dramatic material. To some 
<:xtent we adapted and imitated the romantic drama 
of the period witness those Early-Victorian master- 
pieces, The Lady of Lyons and Richelieu but Victor 


Hugo and the Dumas of Henri III. et sa Cour pro- 
duced little permanent effect in England. It was the 
bourgeois comedy of Scribe and his school that was- 
destined to revolutionise the stage. The literary 
parentage of this group could no doubt be traced, 
but it would be a dismal task. Who was Scribe's- 
father I do not know, but Scribe was the father of 
the modern drama. He analysed dramatic effect far 
more minutely than any of his predecessors, and 
recombined its elements in a thousand new forms. 
Through adaptation and imitation of his methods, we 
got rid of our essentially rhetorical conception of 
comedy (which is last represented in Money and 
London Assurance), and learned to make our domestic 
dramas technically interesting. Broadly speaking 
(though the statement requires much qualification),. 
Scribe taught us to photograph the surfaces of life,, 
leaving it to his successors to develop " X-ray ?r 
methods and get below the surfaces. Ami in the 
meantime the influences which were making for 
spectacle at the larger theatres were promoting at the 
smaller houses the accurate reproduction of costume, 
furniture, and the outward accessories of modern 
life. Charles Mathews and Madame Vestris at the 
Olympic and Lyceum, and Mr. and Mrs. Alfred 
Wigan at the Olympic, made gVeat strides towards 
realism in the dressing of modern plays and setting 
of everyday "interiors"; yet when the Bancroft 


management began at the Prince of Wales's, it was 
still regarded as matter for admiring remark that the 
doors in the scenes should be provided with handles. 
Such trifles are not really trivial, but typical. In 
1837 a room on the stage was represented by a 
roughly painted back-cloth, three "wings," and a 
<x>uple of flapping "borders"; forty years later, a 
room on the stage was built and cieled, to all appear- 
ance, as solidly as any room in May fair or Belgravia, 
and upholstered, not only with liberality, but with 
ostentation. In all externals, the stage realised the 
ideal of "a room with one wall removed," and it 
followed as a matter of necessity that authors should 
aim at a corresponding ideal at natural groupings 
and movements and " overheard " conversation. 
Conventions of action and speach which passed 
unnoticed on an empty stage, with three chairs 
painted on the backing, became intolerable in a 
setting of absolute reality. Thus, through action 
and reaction between authorship and stage-manage- 
ment, we gradually developed a totally new ideal 
{however imperfectly realised on the literary and 
histrionic side) of " holding the mirror up to nature." 
It is this ideal which differentiates the theatre of 
to-day from that of the two centuries between 1660 
and 1860. The initial impulses to the change are to 
be found (I suggest) in the French comediettas and 
vaudevilles, which called for an elegantly realistic 


setting, and in the multiplication of the theatrical 
public, which brought with it the long run and made 
elaborate mounting possible. 

The upward movement, which enables one t6 
bring this survey to a more or less cheerful close, 
definitely set in, beyond a doubt, with the Bancroft 
management at the Prince of Wales's, just midway irr 
the Queen's reign. Until T. W. Robertson came to- 
the front, the predominance of Scribe and his school 
had been absolutely paralysing to original author- 
ship. Robertson was not technically a disciple of 
the French school, but applied to ends of his own 
the scenic mechanism which had been evolved mainly 
through French influence. He possessed a strain of 
original genius, narrowed by defective culture and 
a very limited knowledge of the world. Finding 
in Mr. and Mrs. Bancroft accomplished actors- 
and sympathetic managers, he created a new form* 
of English drama : new, because it ignored the 
rhetorical convention of our classic comedies; 
English because if I may be allowed the truism 
it was not bastard-French. At Robertson's death 
his mantle was divided between Albery and H. J. 
Byron; the poetico-sentimental side of it falling to- 
the former, the lining of verbal flippancy to the latter, 
Byron was deficient in talent, Albery in character, so- 
that the movement seemed for a time to have ended 
in sheer puerility. The Bancrofts, with the younger 


managers, trained in their school Mr. Hare, Mr. 
and Mrs. Kendal, Messrs. Clayton and Cecil were 
forced to fall back in the main upon adaptations from 
the French. But the dramatists of the Second 
Empire in France, while faithful to the methods of 
Scribe, had vastly enlarged the scope of their applica- 
tion, and even the comparatively bloodless works of 
Sardou, which were the most adaptable and the most 
adapted, suggested a larger type of social drama than 
the Scribisms, original or adapted, of the 'fifties, or 
the Robertsonian idylls of the 'sixties and early 
'seventies. After an interval, then, in which we 
seemed to be relapsing into sheer servitude to France, 
there arose a group of writers who took their methods, 
indeed, from the French, but applied them to original 
and thoroughly English ends. Mr. Sydney Grundy 
remains an ardent and militant apostle of the gospel 
according to Scribe, but has shown himself capable of 
throwing a strong individuality into the forms im- 
posed by his religion. Mr. Henry Arthur Jones and 
Mr. A. W. Pinero have, as some of us think, acted 
more wisely, in studying the methods of the Scribe- 
Sardou school in order not to practise them. They 
have realised that "those move easiest who have 
learned to dance," but do not make this a reason for 
waltzing down Regent Street. Both have gone straight 
to life for their material, have observed sincerely and 
reproduced thoughtfully ; while Mr. Pinero in parti- 


cular has so perfected his inborn gifts of invention 
and style as to stand well on a level with the foremost 
dramatists of Europe. Younger men, or at any rate 
younger play wrights Messrs. Carton, Parker, Esmond, 
Shaw are developing unmistakable talent, while such 
managers as Mr. Hare, Mr. Wyndham, Mr. Alexander, 
Mr. Tree, are following, more or less consistently, * 
progressive policy. 

What, then, are the dangers of the situation? Is there 
any justification for the cry, which is raised from time 
to time, that the drama is "marching to its doom "? 
At the first blush, it seems wildly absurd; for the 
very men who raise it have made their fortunes out of 
this moribund art, and are pfobably from five to ten 
times richer than the most successful playwright of 
thirty years ago. But it may possibly prove that in 
this very fact there lurks a danger to art. Just about 
the time when the Bancroft-Irving movement had 
awakened a new interest in the London theatres, it 
happened (partly from the same causes) that the 
provinces and America became unexpected sources 
of wealth. The profits of successful managers 
and authors increased enormously; the salaries of 
actors went up in proportion ; the whole theatrical 
world remodelled its life on a greatly augmented scale 
of expenditure. The necessity which this system 
involves of continuously appealing to an enormous 
public, in London and beyond it, must very soon 


place a limit to possible advance upon our present 
lines. "Plain living and high thinking" is not 
possible to the dramatist, however much he may 
desire it, for there is practically no middle course 
between a huge success and a disastrous failure. Un- 
less such a middle course can be discovered or 
devised, our Victorian Drama will come to little 



THERE is no doubt that Alfred de Musset's Lorenz- 
accio* is one of the most Shakespearian plays outside 
Shakespeare. I have long dreamt of the possibility 
of putting it on the stage and I dream of it still. 
The performance at the Adelphi neither realised nor 
demolished my dream. It was not good; it had 
better have been left alone; but that was because 
Madame Bernhardt had not gone about the thing 
in the right way. The play, or rather the dramatic 

* Madame Sarah Bernhardt's season at the Adelphi lasted 
from June 17 to July 14. She appeared in Lorenzaccio seven 
times; in Afagda, thrice; in Frou Frou, four times; in Fedora, 
twice; in Spiritisme, "thrice ; in La Tosca, four times; in La 
Dame aux CamJtias, five times ; and in llEtrangere, twice. 


romance, ought to have been differently adapted and 
differently cast. Madame Bernhardt ought to have 
played the Marchesa di Cibo, and De Musset himself, 
as he was at twenty-three, when he wrote this astonish- 
ing poem, ought to have been summoned from the 
shades to re-create Lorenzino. This is simply to 
repeat that Madame Bernhardt ought to have left the 
play alone; for my two recommendations that the 
poet should be recalled to life, and that the actress 
should play a minor part are equally fantastic. 
Nevertheless, if a youth with the grace of a tiger-cat 
and the genius of Edmund Kean should one day 
appear on the French stage, he will find a triumph 
awaiting him in Lorenzaccio. No young ladies need 

The coming Lorenzaccio will certainly not be 
content with M. Armand d'Artois' version of his 
adventures. De Musset used a more than Shake- 
spearian licence of scene-shifting; M. d'Artois sticks 
at nothing in order to make a single scene serve for 
each act. Thus the drama is quite unnecessarily 
deprived of all its freedom and suppleness of move- 
ment. Large curtailment was necessary, no doubt, 
and could have been effected without serious injury 
to the play; but the sequence of the scenes should 
have been left as nearly as possible intact. The 
simple devices known as a "cloth " and a "carpenter- 
scene " appear to have slipped not only out of use but 


out of recollection. We act on the assumption that 
scenery is not made for the drama, but the drama for 
scenery. Even if less actual violence had been re- 
quired to compress the action into four scenes (the 
second and fifth acts both pass in Lorenzo's chamber), 
the general effect of the play would still have been 
injured; for the one-act-one-scene system suggests 
and demands a method of construction totally different 
from that which the poet deliberately adopted. The 
compression gives De Musset the air of trying and 
failing to do a thing which in fact he did not dream 
of attempting. He aimed at and attained an effect of 
sequence, a lithe, snake-like movement; he is made 
to appear as though he had aimed at symmetry, 
balance, architectural dignity and strength, and had 
hopelessly missed his mark. It would take too long 
to give adequate instances of the mutilation to which 
the text has been subjected in order to force it into 
the four-scene mould. The most amazing trans- 
position, perhaps, is that of the scene between the 
two pedants and their charges, the young Strozzi and 
Salviati, which is lifted bodily out of the fifth act and 
placed in the first ! I did not very clearly catch the 
dialogue, so cannot tell whether it was altered to suit 
its altered position, before instead of after the murder 
of the Duke. If not, it must have made pure 
nonsense. Again, in the stage version the Duke is 
present at the conversation between Lorenzo and 


the painter Tebaldeo (Act ii. Scene 2 of the original 
text), in which Lorenzo most clearly reveals his hatred 
of the Medici tyranny. His Highness listens blandly 
and does not move an eyebrow the incident has 
become a sheer counter-sense. 

Madame Bernhardt speaks De Musset's beautiful 
prose very prettily, and at times with what may be 
called abstract dramatic force that is to say, dramatic 
force unconditioned by any care for appropriate- 
ness to the particular character to be portrayed. 
She is never for a moment Lorenzaccio, that " lende- 
main d'orgie ambulant," as the Duke calls him; she 
is much liker Hamlet, and likest of all to Madame 
Sarah Bernhardt in a highly becoming male costume. 
She is a dignified, languid, eminently respectable per- 
sonage, as diverse as possible from the vicious strip- 
ling De Musset has drawn for us, hollow-eyed and 
hectic with debauchery, his lip curled with a perpetual 
sneer at the world and himself, fanatical idealism and 
sick self-contempt seething like a hell-brew in his 
brain, and spurting forth in vitriolic jibes at all that in 
his heart he holds sacred. Hamlet may or may not 
be mad Lorenzaccio certainly is. He has worked 
himself up into a delirium of cynicism. He revels 
morbidly in dissimulation for its own sake, and almost 
loses sight of the end with which he first entered upon 
it. His machinations are absurdly disproportionate 
to their object. They remind one now and then of 


Tom Sawyer's plots for getting Jim out of prison in 
strict accordance with the rules of art. At the last 
moment, he wantonly endangers the success of his 
designs out of sheer defiant cynicism. The thing 
would be childishly easy if he were capable of acting 
with sane resolution ; as a matter of fact, he conducts 
himself so insanely that his success seems a miracle. 
There is a great problem here for a character-actor of 
the rarest physical and mental gifts. Should he ever 
appear, he will certainly not end the play with the 
murder of Alessandro de' Medici, but with that 
admirable scene between Lorenzo and Filippo Strozzi 
which immediately precedes Lorenzo's own assassina- 

"At Drury Lane," wrote George Henry Lewes in 
April 1853, "we were threatened with a version of 
La Dame aux Camillas, but the Lord Chamberlain 
refused a licence to this unhealthy idealisation of one 
of the worst evils of our social life. Paris may 
delight in such pictures, but London, thank God 1 
1ms still enough instinctive repulsion against pruriency 
not to tolerate them. ... If any Lord Chamberlain 
be supine enough to license it but there is no fear ! " 
And now the play is familiar to satiety in London no 
less than in Paris, is recognised as the starting-point 
of the serious modern drama, and formally claims its 
place as a classic by reverting to the costumes of its 
date of origin ! Could there be a more trenchant 


commentary on the uses of the Censorship? The 
supporters of that institution are in a cleft stick. If 
the play is not harmful, why was it vetoed at the 
outset, and England in so far shut off from the 
dramatic movement? If it is harmful, why has the 
Censorship been false to its trust, and permitted, any 
time the last seventeen years, this pollution of our 
chaste boards? There is no escaping from the 
dilemma; either the Censorship was vexatious and 
tyrannous in 1853, or it was culpably lax and com- 
pliant in 1880. It may perhaps be alleged that the 
absolute merits of the play are of secondary import- 
ance, and that the fact of its being commonly reputed 
immoral in 1853 was sufficient to justify the action of 
the Censorship. In that case the office resolves itself 
into a patent mechanism for keeping the English stage 
thirty years behind the rest of the world ; for it is 
clear that every enlargement of the dramatist's domain 
will always shock timidity and outrage hypocrisy. 

Well, well time works wonders, and even official 
omnipotence grows less ignorant and arrogant as the 
years roll on. Logically, the Censorship ought to kill 
the drama; practically, the drama is rapidly killing 
the Censorship. Certain it is that La Dame aux 
Camelias that somewhat mawkish but irresistibly 
touching idyll of passion in the midst of pollution 
now conveys to no mortal hearer any suggestion of 
that "pruriency" which stirred Lewes to such a 


surprising outburst of British pharisaism. It gains 
greatly, in my opinion, by confessing its date in its 
costumes. The manners date, the language dates, 
the wit and the sentiment date why should the 
dresses contradict them ? Madame Bernhardt looked 
better as Marguerite, and played the part much more 
charmingly, to my thinking, than she has done of 
recent years. Her art was absolutely consummate. 
It is my own misfortune, no doubt, that I have 
become so keenly alive to her art as to have no eyes, 
or no feeling, for anything else. There is such a 
thing, surely, as too great virtuosity: an artist can 
have his or her means of expression too completely 
under control. If we have no sense of momentary 
effort, of struggle to subdue and fashion more or less 
resistent material, our admiration is apt to be un- 
thrilled by sympathy. The gentleman who rides 
eight horses round the circus ring pretends (if it be a 
pretence) to rein them in with mastery indeed, but 
not without effort. Very likely the animals are so 
accustomed to do their turn that they would keep 
pace and place as though by clockwork if the rider 
held no reins at all; but if he is a wise artist he will 
not allow us to suspect this. The effort after per- 
fection, in a word, is more interesting and real than 
its mechanical reproduction. "You mean/' the 
enthusiast for French acting may say with a sneer, 
"that bad acting is better than good!" Where- 


upon I retort, with disdain, that caricature is not 

Mr. Arthur Bourchier has produced at the Strand 
a farce named All Alive, Oh!* adapted (by Mr. Ralph 
Lumley, says rumour) from Le Disparu, by MM. 
Bisson and Sylvane. Most of the action becomes 
quite meaningless in English, but the dialogue is 
inoffensive and the situations fairly amusing. Mr. 
Bourchier, Mr. Fred Thorne, Miss May Palfrey, and 
Miss Phyllis Broughton play the leading parts with 
spirit ; Mr. Mark Kinghorne is capital as a servant ; 
and Mr. James Leigh, as an auctioneer, puts life into 
the preposterous auction-scene of the third act. 



St. Paul's, yd July. 

" WHAT is good enough for God is good enough for 
me ! " Thus spake Mr. Sydney Grundy the other 
day to an irrepressible interviewer. The piety of 
the sentiment we must all applaud, but the practical 
merits of the proposition can scarcely be estimated 
until we have ascertained what is good enough for 
God and Mr. Grundy. If you know Mr. Grundy you 
will have no difficulty in guessing; otherwise you may 
* June 16 July 9. 


as well give it up at once. It is nothing more nor less 
than the "well-made play" for which Mr. Grundy 
thus claims divine sanction and approval. Scribe, it 
Avould appear, is a prime favourite in even higher 
spheres than those in which Miss Marie Corelli's 
genius is said to find august admirers. And how has 
Mr. Grundy arrived at this knowledge? Has he 
read it in the stars? For Mr. Grundy, as all the 
world knows, is an astronomer in his leisure hours, 
studies the stage-management of the heavens, and 
keeps a critical eye upon the planetary exits and 
entrances. But no ! it is not through his telescope 
that Mr. Grundy has taken the opinion of the 
Almighty. It is by way of anatomy, not astronomy, 
that the revelation has come to him. 

"The 'well-made' play," said Mr. Grundy, with 
decision, "is the play which is well made. I'll take 
the human body as my analogue. Is that ' well 
made'? Are we a conglomeration of bones, and 
muscles, and electric nerves huddled together any- 
how ? Or did the Creator build us with design ? 
There is the framework of bone, the covering of 
muscle, the filigree of exterior beauty. What is good 
enough for God is good enough for me." Mr. 
Grundy might have driven home his pronouncement 
with a quotation from James Russell Lowell : 

" Godhez sed so, plump an' fairly, 
It's ez long C7, it is broad ; 


An* you've gut to git up airly 
Ef you want to take in God. " 

The worst of such an appeal to headquarters is 
that the same device is open to your adversary, and 
that he is equally sure of a decision in his favour. 
The answer that comes to us from the vault of heaven 
is simply the echo of our own voices. If I were 
an opponent of the well-made play (I am not ; Mr. 
Grundy thinks I am, but he "has not, as he puts it, 
''read me aright"), I could, with the greatest ease, 
enlist the Creator on my side. The argument would 
run somewhat like this : Why dabble in false analogies 
when Heaven pronounces, not analogically, but with 
the utmost directness, against the well-made play? 
The human body is the sculptor's theme and gives 
the sculptor, not the dramatist, his laws. Heaven is 
the arch-sculptor ; all the human artist can do is to 
study and reproduce its masterpieces. But Heaven 
is also the arch- dramatist, at once author and stage- 
manager of the popular tragi-comedy known as Life. 
The playwright's business is to study and reproduce 
scenes from this tragi-comedy ; but the first thing 
that strikes him when he looks at it critically is that 
it is not well made, in the Scribe-Grundy sense. The 
marvellous articulation and equipoise of the human 
body the sculptor's object find no analogy in Life, 
which is the playwright's theme. Therefore the two 
artists work by different laws to a different end. 


What should we think of a sculptor who should 
produce formless lumps of marble in place of statues, 
on the plea that Life is formless? Hear his argu- 
ment : " I'll take Life as my analogue. Is Life ' well- 
made ' ? Does it present a clear, symmetrical, jointed, 
and rounded design, with everything in its place, and 
nicely adapted to its end ? Certainly not ; if there 
is any design at all in the matter, any plan in the 
' mighty maze,' it is so sedulously and successfully 
concealed that only theologians and philosophers can 
divine it at all, and each of them divines it differently. 
Well, then, what is good enough for God is good 
enough for me. If Life is amorphous, why should 
sculpture strive after form? Here is a chunk of 
marble, chiselled at random; you will find iust as much 
design in it as I, or any one else, can find in Life." 

"Preposterous nonsense!" you say; but if it is 
preposterous for a sculptor to deduce the rules of his 
art from the dramaturgy of Heaven, why should a 
dramatist go for his canons to the sculpture of 
Heaven ? Mr. Grundy will find, I think, that in 
argument on sublunary themes "God" is always a 
treacherous Ally, and metaphor a two-edged sword. 
"Nee deus intersit, nisi dignus vindice nodus." Let 
us leave God out of the question a point of policy 
on which the Decalogue is at one with the Ars Poetica 
and try whether an analysis of terms may not pos- 
sibly help us forr'ader. 


There is nothing so fatal to lucidity as a question- 
begging term, and especially one which implies a 
false opposite. In municipal politics, for instance, I 
have often wondered why one party should have 
allowed the other to grab the designation " Moderate. " 
Once accept this description of your opponent's 
measures, and how can you argue against them ? 
What is not moderate is immoderate, and what is 
immoderate is unwise, reprehensible, vicious. Such 
is the unrealised influence of words, that the fallacy 
involved in this mere designation is, I am convinced, 
an appreciable factor in London politics. In the 
same way, the term " well-made play" obscures the 
point at issue by suggesting as its opposite " ill-made 
play," which is absurd. The true question the only 
question worth a moment's discussion is between the 
well-made play and the better-made play. " Hold ! " 
says Mr. Grundy. "You are now begging the ques- 
tion in your own favour ! " Very well, I have re- 
established the balance. The two fallacies having 
cancelled each other, we can make a fresh start on 
equal terms. 

The real question is this : Has Eugene Scribe 
spoken the last word of theatrical technique? Is 
every departure from his principles and practice a 
change for the worse ? Has not his art, which, in its 
novelty, was immensely interesting and attractive, 
come to seem, through sheer familiarity, a somewhat 


tedious artifice ? Is there not an art beyond his art, 
an art which conceals art, a higher skill which mini- 
mises the mechanical element in drama, and so leaves 
more room for character, thought, emotion, humour, 
the essential components of life? When last Mr. 
Grundy went a-theorising, he compared the well-made 
play, not to the human form divine, but (more 
modestly) to a mechanical rabbit.* Well, accepting 
the comparison, I suggest that it is possible, by sim- 
plifying the mechanism, to make our mechanical 
rabbits a good deal more like real- ones than those of 
the Scribe-Sardou warren. 

If the interviewer is to be trusted, however, I am 
preaching to the converted. "There is something in 
the jeer at the well-made play," Mr. Grundy is repre- 
sented as saying, " but the fact is the critics are the 
victims of only half a truth." Why, then, what more 
would you have ? If the critics have got hold of a 
half-truth, they are greatly to be congratulated. There 
are no absolute truths in aesthetics. In this sphere, 
half the truth is the utmost that any human mind is 
capable of apprehending. If Mr. Grundy can see 
and much more if he can utter a critical whole-truth 
of any moment, his vision and faculty must indeed 
be god-like. 

One word more. " I sometimes think," says Mr. 
Grundy, " that the public of these days will only go 
* Theatrical World of 1896, p. 41. 


to see the plays it doesn't like." This is a really 
profound and suggestive observation, though I am 
not sure that Mr. Grundy himself realises all that it 
suggests. He goes on to quote the following conver- 
sation as illustrating his point : " ' Have you been to 
see So-and-so ? ' ' No ; but it seems the rage.' ' Oh, 
you must go ; but for my own part it bored me to 
death.' " You do hear people talking in this strain ; 
but if the play is really a successful one, they mis- 
represent their sensations when they say " It bored me 
to death." What they mean is, " It interested me in 
spite of myself. I disliked it, and it puzzled me ; but 
it bored me much less than the trumpery pieces I like 
and understand." If Mr. Grundy would take his own 
wisdom to heart, and write a play which should 
fascinate and irritate the public in about equal pro- 
portions, it would probably be the success of his 




1th July. 

LONDON is becoming the Belgium of the theatrical 
world its recognised duelling-ground. The leading 
actresses of Europe have contracted an agreeable 


habit of popping across the Channel every summer to 
exchange a few shots, and we lucky dogs of critics 
have the privilege of sitting by and seeing fair. This 
year, like the shepherd of Mount Ida, we have three 
goddesses to choose between ; . but fortunately there 
is no law against trisecting the apple. We can assign 
a solid wedge to each ; it is their own fault if they 
insist on measuring and weighing to determine which 
is the largest and the smallest. 

Madame Bernhardt appeared as Gilberte in Frou- 
Frou on Wednesday evening, Madame Rejane* on 
Thursday ; and the comparison thus forced upon us 
was not only interesting but pleasant, inasmuch as 
both actresses came out of it with credit. Madame 
Bernhardt's first performance of Frou-Frou, at the 
Gaiety some fifteen years ago, dwells in my memory 
as one of the most brilliant pieces of acting I ever 
saw an exquisite, iridescent creation. It has 
suffered somewhat by sheer lapse of time; it has 
suffered still more from the actress's gradual coarsen- 
ing of effects in the effort to bring them home to 
audiences which do not understand her language, and 
therefore look for and applaud what may be called 

* Madame Rejane's season at the Lyric Theatre lasted from 
June 28 to July 17. She appeared in La Douloureuse five times, 
in I-'rou-Frou five times, and in Madame Sans-G$ne ten times. 
Amoureuse and La Maison de Pott pee (A DolFs House] were 
announced, but not performed. 


the athletics of acting. Where Sarah is content to be 
beautiful and subtle, she is quite as subtle and almost 
as beautiful as ever. In the lighter and more sub- 
dued scenes, were it not for the signs of wear-and-tear 
in her voice, one could almost imagine oneself back 
in the early 'eighties. Here she still shows a mastery 
which is all her own. But in the scenes of storm 
and stress she has lost all restraint, all temperance, 
all truth and beauty. Her quarrel with Louise, and 
her parting from De Sartorys before the duel, are 
painful examples of what, in any other actress, we 
should call unmitigated rant. True, Sarah is not 
"any other actress" these paroxysms of fury, in 
which her words come seething forth through her 
clenched teeth at the rate of five hundred to the 
minute, are peculiar to herself alone. If they were 
as admirable as they are wonderful, they would be 
triumphs indeed. But as a matter of fact they stand 
in no relation to nature, and in a false relation to art. 
They are, as I have said, feats of vocal and physical 
athletics designed to impress spectators on whom 
delicate acting and even articulate speech are thrown 
away. Perfect as Sarah's diction can be when she 
chooses, I defy any one to follow her words towards 
the close of the scene with Louise; whereas every 
word of Madame Rejane's, though she plays the 
scene with ample vehemence, reached the ear as 
clear-cut as a jewel. In the frantic effort to detain 


De Sartorys both actresses transgressed all measure, 
and the transgression was more painful, because less 
physically skilful, in the case of Madame Rejane. 
For a single moment, she became positively ludicrous. 
If this passage cannot be more artistically regulated, 
so as to avoid the monotony of clutch and clamour, 
it ought to be cut as short as possible, and the com- 
batants ought, like Macbeth and Macduff, to " fight 
off." Madame Rejane's performance, as a whole, 
was fresh, vivid, delightful, and in the last two acts 
genuinely pathetic. Perfect distinction is not within 
this actress's scope, and her performance is not so 
rich in opalescent light and colour as Sarah's. Her 
smile, too, is so irrepressibly joyous as to be almost 
discordant now and then with the tone of the final 
scenes. On the other hand, her acting is perfectly 
accomplished and delicately artistic, without over- 
emphasis, except in that one passage of the fourth 
act, and without mannerism. A hundred little points 
might be singled out for praise ; but space is precious 
this week. Let me merely note, as symbolising the 
difference between her performance and Sarah's, the 
little incident of the glass of water which Gilberte 
offers to De Sartorys and he will not accept. Rejane 
puts down the glass simply and naturally, trusting to 
her face to bring out the meaning of the point ; Sarah 
must needs shatter the glass in putting it down ; and 
this proportion holds throughout. The general per- 


formance at the Lyric is much better than at the 
Adelphi, where M. Bremont alone, as De Sartorys, 
rose above mediocrity. At the Lyric, M. Calmette 
was a good De Sartorys, M. Nertann a capital 
Brigard, and M. Magnier the best Valre*as I remem- 
ber to have seen. 

It is curious to compare Frott-Frou> that eminently 
well-made play (despite the conventionality of the last 
two acts), with the opening play of Madame Rdjane's 
season, La Douloureuse by M. Maurice Donnay. 
This is a sentimental comedy of the new school, 
deliberately formless and artfully inartificial. I ear- 
nestly counsel Mr. Grundy not to go and see it ; he 
would probably rise up in the stalls ancl 'protest, like 
Mr. Tomlins at Its Never Too Late to Mend, or Lord 
Queensberry at The Promise of May. To think that 
the very century and the very city which received the 
revelation according to Scribe should thus have re- 
lapsed into heathenism ! I am myself a noted back- 
slider, and in the very worst odour with the orthodox ; 
but I think M. Donnay goes a little too far. He has 
written a four-act play, as it seems to me, for the 
sake of a single scene. It is a superb scene when 
we reach it (in the third act); but the author has 
apparently taken pains to prevent us from foreseeing 
or desiring it. The play is compounded in this wise : 
Act I. gives us an amusing picture of shady society 
in Paris, the splendours and miseries of fraudulent 


finance. Though helplessly stage-managed, this act 
is good enough in itself; but only five minutes of it 
have anything to do with the drama which is to 
follow. Its whole practical purpose is to show us that 
the wife of the dishonest banker has a lover, and to 
inform us that by her husband's suicide she becomes 
a widow. It is not pretended that the environment 
so elaborately painted in this act has any particular 
effect upon her character or upon the subsequent 
course of events. An absolutely different first act, in 
a wholly dissimilar environment, might be substituted 
for this one, without entailing any change in the 
remainder of the play. I agree with Mr. Grundy 
that this is not good policy. Why concentrate our 
attention on the Bohemia of the Bourse if it is to be 
neither the subject nor the general setting of the play ? 
A first act ought not to be an irrelevant frontispiece 
that is one canon to which I subscribe with all my 
heart. The second act opens with an abstract dis- 
cussion of the theory of an equal moral law for the 
two sexes. The characters, like those of Moliere and 
Moore & Burgess, sit in a semicircle and speak their 
pieces. We almost wonder that they do not elect a 
chairman and put the matter to the vote. A new 
personage the heroine's mother is introduced to 
champion the old-fashioned morality, who, when she 
has said her say, goes home, and is out of the saga. 
The discussion, however, is not so undramatic as you 


might suppose, for we feel that the interest of the 
play is to turn on the application of the principles 
here enunciated. The stage is then cleared for a 
love-scene between hero and heroine Philippe and 
Hdlene an admirable, modern, unconventional love- 
scene, admirably acted by Madame Rejane and M. 
Calmette. But we ask ourselves at its close where 
the drama is to come from, where the obstacle is to 
crop up and the struggle to begin ? We are nearing 
the end of the second act, and nowhere on the 
horizon can we discern a cloud as big as a man's 
hand. Helene's year of widowhood is nearly over: 
she and Philippe are presently to be married j all is 
harmony, adoration, and security. In the last scene 
of the act a cloud does begin to gather, for we find 
that Gotte des Trembles, Helene's bosom friend, is 
also in love with Philippe, and is determined to let 
him know it. But Philippe resists her blandishments 
with melancholy austerity, and when the curtain falls 
on the second act things seem perfectly safe and in 
order. Helene a widow, and Philippe austere what 
harm can Gotte possibly do ? 

The fact is, M. Donnay is carefully keeping a 
secret from us, which Mr. Grundy, had he been 
treating the theme, would as carefully have revealed 
to us early in the first act ; and I think Mr. Grundy 
would have been right. Philippe is not Helene's 
first lover; her son, Georges, is not the child of her 


late husband ; and Gotte, and Gotte alone, knows 
the truth. Had we also been initiated from the 
outset (and nothing could have been easier or more 
natural three words exchanged between Gotte and 
Helene would have done it) we should have been at 
no loss whatever to foresee the impending drama, 
and the sense of irony would have tripled the interest 
of the intervening scenes. In renouncing this effect, 
M. Donnay abjures the most precious birthright of 
the dramatist. The chief attraction of the theatre is 
that there we can sit like gods, knowing the past, 
foreseeing the future, and watching poor purblind 
humanity dreeing its weird in ignorance, bewilder- 
ment, " a general mist of error." If we ourselves are 
in the mist, and know no more than the actors in the 
drama (in this case, indeed, no more than the most 
ignorant of them), we lose that complexity of realisa- 
tion and that sense of superiority which the whole 
mechanism of the theatre is designed to afford us. 
And we have no compensating gain. The effect of 
M. Donnay's third act is not a whit more forcible 
because it comes upon us unprepared. We learn at 
the beginning that Philippe's austerity has not after 
all been proof against Gotte's seductions ; but it has 
now returned upon him embittered by remorse, and 
lie treats Gotte with sternness approaching to con- 
tumely. She takes her revenge by revealing Helena's 
secret; he tells Helene that he knows it; and 


Helene, putting two and two together, divines how 
it has come to his knowledge. This long scene of 
mutual reproach and remorseful misery is in reality 
the whole drama. A magnificent scene it is, and 
magnificently acted. In its agonising hesitancies and 
despairing brutalities, it is the most poignantly life- 
like scene I can remember in French drama. And 
here I chop round and side with M. Donnay 
against Mr. Grundy. Mr. Grundy would certainly 
have ended it with a bang, so to speak a swoon 
or a scream, a tableau, or, at the very least, a 
piece of rhetoric. M. Donnay does nothing of 
the sort. He lets Philippe and Helene unpack 
their hearts with words until they are exhausted, 
broken, dazed with misery, and have nothing more 
to say. Then Helene asks, "What o'clock is 
it?" Philippe looks at his watch, "Nearly seven." 
" I must be going " and she dries her eyes, smoothes 
her hair, pulls herself together, in a word, to face 
the world again. The mechanical round of life re- 
asserts its hold upon them. She entered the room 
happy and confident, she leaves it heart-broken but 
she must bear up somehow. " Help me with my 
cloak," she says ; and he holds her mantle for her, 
and tucks in the puffed sleeves of her blouse. Then 
he takes up the lamp and lights her out and the 
curtain falls. The fourth act consists rightly and 
inevitably of the reconciliation. Their cup of life is 


embittered, but they will make shift to drink it with 
the best face they may. M. Donnay did right in not 
trying to wind up his play in the third act; but in 
removing the scene to the Riviera, and giving an 
elaborate pictorial setting to the five minutes' dialogue 
of which the act consists, I think he sinned against 
the law of artistic economy. The re-union might 
much more naturally and effectively have taken place 
in the studio which witnessed the parting. 

M. Donnay's play afforded such a tempting oppor- 
tunity for an endeavour to strike the balance between 
the old and the new dramaturgy, that I have exceeded 
my space and cannot possibly do justice this week to 
our Viennese visitors at Daly's Theatre.* They have 
given us two most interesting specimens of the work 
done at the Vienna Volkstheater, evidently an admir- 
able and enviable institution. Nothing could be more 
modern and alert than Untreu, a translation of an 
Italian comedy by Roberto Bracco, in which Madame 
Odilon, Herr Christians, and Herr Nihl made their 
first appearance. Die Go/dene Eva> on the other 
hand, by Von Schontan and Koppell-Ellfeld, seemed 
a trifle old-fashioned, but was redeemed from common- 
place not only by the excellent acting, but by the 
literary grace and sparkle of the ingenious rhymes 

* The company of the Vienna Volkstheater appeared at eight 
afternoon performances, playing Untmi, June 28 and 29 ; Die 
Goldene Eva, June 30 and July i ; and Renaissance, July 5 8. 


(Knittelverse is the technical term for them) in which 
the dialogue is cast. Madame Odilon showed re- 
markable ability and charm as the Francillonesque 
heroine of Untreu^ and Herr Christians played the 
hero of Die Goldenc Eva with such grace, fervour, 
and force as we look for in vain, at the moment, on 
the English stage. He is not only a well-graced, but 
a well-trained actor. Nothing could have been better, 
in its way, than his really moving delivery of the lyric- 
tirade at the end of the second act. I shall return 
next week to the subject of the Vienna company, 
when I hope to have seen more of their very interest- 
ing work. In the meantime, let nie say emphatically 
that they are well worth seeing, and that the spirited 
enterprise of Herr Kadelburg, the manager, deserves 
all encouragement. 



Daily Chronicle, \QthJuly. 

A LONG and interesting talk with Mr. Henry 
Kadelburg, of the Vienna Volkstheater, has, I own, 
left me profoundly humiliated, and disposed 

" In spite of jubilation, 
To renounce the British nation, 
And become an Aus-tri-an." 


They do as a matter of course in Vienna everything 
that we ought to do here and can't. Observe that 
Mr. Kadelburg represents, not the Hofburg Theater, 
the most magnificent playhouse in Europe, financed 
by the Emperor and managed by the Court, but 
the Volkstheater, a private enterprise, founded 
indeed by public spirit, but self-supporting and 
profitable. We need not envy the Viennese their 
palatial Burgtheater, the outcome, doubtless, of a 
system which has its drawbacks ; but it is hard to see 
what drawback attaches to such an institution as 
the Volkstheater. One such playhouse in London 
would be the salvation, if not of the British drama, 
at any rate of English acting. 

" It is nine years since the theatre was founded," 
says Mr. Kadelburg in his excellent English. "The 
Stadttheater had been burnt down, and was rebuilt 
as a sort of music-hall. The need for a new popular 
theatre made itself felt; the Emperor presented a 
splendid site near the Ringstrasse, of an estimated 
value of ;8o,ooo ; and a number of wealthy 
citizens subscribed the building -fund. Contractors 
and furnishers did their work on the lowest possible 
terms, yet the building cost ^60,000. This money 
was subscribed in 500 florin (say 42) shares, but 
no one could hold more than ten shares, so that 
there was no possibility of the whole property being 
concentrated in one or two hands. More precisely, 



it is possible to hold more than ten shares, but 
additional shares above ten give no additional voting 

"Well, the theatre being built, what did the 
proprietors do with it ? " 

"They established a constitution, and, subject to 
that constitution, let it to the present manager, 
Herr von Bukovics, whose second in command I 
am. The yearly rental is over .4,500, and pays 
the proprietors four and a half per cent, on their 
shares. In addition to this, they have the right of 
booking seats in advance without the extra booking 
fee, which the general public has to pay; and this 
privilege, being exercised through a system of trans- 
ferable coupons, is equivalent to an extra two and a 
half per cent." 

"Now, as to the constitution, Mr. Kadelburg 
of what is its nature ? " 

11 In the first place, our prices are regulated, and 
are very low. A stall costs 2|fl. (45.), a box from 
7fl. to 156*. The cheapest seats in the house cost 
50 kreuzers (about iod.), and for 60 kreuzers you 
can reserve a numbered and comfortably upholstered 
seat. On no account are we permitted to raise the 
prices; but they are reduced by thirty per cent, on 
the classical nights for we are bound to give one 
night a week (Thursday as a matter of fact) to the 
classical repertory Shakespeare, Lessing, Goethe, 


Schiller, Kleist, Grillparzer, etc. On these classical 
Thursdays, and at afternoon performances on Sundays 
and holidays, we last season played Shakespeare's 
Hamlet, Taming of the Shrew, and Comedy of Errors. 
Next season, we shall do Richard III. These 
classical evenings and afternoons are largely attended 
by school children with their parents, and once a 
year, on the Emperor's fete, we give a free perform- 
ance for school children alone." 

"Then, on non-classical evenings, you can play 
what you please?" 

"Within limits, yes. We cannot play operettas, 
extravaganzas, or sheer farces." 

" How you must pine under that restriction ! " 

"Our modern repertory consists for the most part 

of light comedies, but we do not shrink from plays 

of the most serious order. For instance, we produced 

Sudermann's Die Ehre and Sodom's Ende, while 

Heimat, Die Schmetterlingschlacht, and Morituri were 

done at the Burgtheater. We have acted five of 

Ibsen's plays, The Pillars of Society, A Doll's House, 

Ghosts, The Wild Duck, and Rosmersholm." 

"Certainly not the lightest of his works." 

"No, but next season we may possibly produce 

the lightest of his works, The League of Youth. 

Then, as you know, one of Madame Odilon's chief 

successes has been made in Madame Sans-Gene, and 

of other recent French plays, we have produced 


Porto Riche's Amoureuse, and Donnay's Amants 
both great successes." 

"What do you reckon a success? How many 
performances in a season ? " 

" Well, a successful play will probably be repeated 
from sixty to eighty times in its first season. Madame 
Sans-Gene has been performed 108 times in three 

" How many performances of a successful play do 
you give in a week ? " 

"We are notr allowed to act any play more than 
twice running. On the third .night we must change 
the bill." 

" Do you find it any disadvantage to be debarred 
from running a play continuously ? " 

"No, we are under no temptation to do so." 

" Don't you find that one success kills another 
that the public flocks to one play at a time, to the 
exclusion, or marked disadvantage, of others ? " 

: "Not at all; we have frequently three successful 
plays running together. Last season, for instance,, 
our chief successes were Die Goldene Eva> which you 
have seen at Daly's, a local play, Das grobe Hemd, 
and Donnay's Amants. These ran abreast, as it 
were, neither interfering with the success of the 

"With whom lies the choice of plays ? " 

"There is a * Dramaturg ' attached to the theatre, 


whose business it is not only to read plays sent in 
to us, but to keep an eye on the French and Italian 
drama for plays likely to suit us. We now do a 
good many Italian plays. The great majority of 
our pieces, however, come to us from well-known 
Austrian, German, and French authors. During 
the nine years of the theatre's existence, 6000 plays 
have been submitted by unknown outsiders, and of 
these only four have proved worth production." 

" And how many * Dramaturgs ' have succumbed 
in the process of winnowing the 6000 ? " 

" One only he went mad, poor fellow ! If the 
* Dramaturg ' reports favourably on a play, I read it. 
If I think well of it, Herr von Bukovics reads it; 
and if he approves, it is accepted. Then it is 
assigned to one of the four regisseurs^ or stage- 
managers, of whom I am one. He is responsible 
for the Imcenierung the mounting and acting of 
it. He has much more authority and influence than 
a stage-manager in England." 

"That is because most of our actor-managers do 
their own Inscenierung, and the nominal stage- 
manager merely carries out their orders. Now tell 
me with your frequent changes of programme, you 
must have a large company of actors ? " 

"We have a company of sixty, and a working 
staff of sixty more." 

" And how do salaries range ? ;> 


"From 5ofl. to 2ooofl. a month. That means 
that a * utility ' lady or gentleman will receive about 
;8o a year (including payment for extra perform- 
ances), while a 'leading lady' will make from 
^2500 to ^3000 a year. A young 'leading man* 
we probably engage at about 600 a year, rising 
gradually to as much as ^1500. Then I must 
tell you that we have a pension fund. Every actor, 
after five years' service, is entitled, if disabled from 
playing, to retire with a pension of 40 per cent, of 
a third of his salary. After ten years' service he 
is entitled to 80 per cent, of a third of his salary ; 
and after thirty years' service he can retire upon 
the full third." 

" Andjiow is the pension fund constituted ? " 
" The proprietors of the theatre are bound to pay 
'ooofl. a year towards it, the management 3ooofL, 
and the actors themselves 6ooofl. But this is raised 
not by deductions from their salaries, but by an 
annual benefit performance. Last year we mounted 
a Chinese play, The Chalk Circle^ for this benefit, 
acting it exactly after the manner of the Chinese 
stage, with no scenery or properties. If A. said, 
' Give me a cup of tea,' B. poured from an 
imaginary teapot into an imaginary cup, and handed 
the imaginary cup to A., who raised it to his 
lips, and went through the pantomime of tasting, 
approving, and drinking and so on throughout. 


The play deals with a story not unlike that of the 
Judgment of Solomon. It was quite a success. 
We took one of the largest theatres in Vienna for 
the occasion, and charged special prices. The 
receipts were 9000 florins, the expenses about 2000 
florins; so that a net profit of 7000 florins, or 1000 
more than the actors are required to contribute, 
went to the pension fund." 

4 'How many people does the Volkstheater seat? " 

"About eighteen hundred and at ordinary prices 
a full house means a gross receipt of ^"200, while 
our nightly expenses are about ^125. The Emperor, 
I may say, pays .500 a year for his box. Let me 
add that we have practically no advertising expenses. 
The newspapers insert our brief announcements 
simply as news, and we never dream of placarding 
the town with posters." 

"Now tell me about the training of your actors. 
I was very much struck the other day .with the 
admirable diction and delivery of Herr Christians 
in the part of Peter in Die Goldene Eva. He would 
make an ideal Prince Hal in Henry IV. We have 
scarcely any one on the English stage who could 
approach him in the part, simply because our actors 
have not learned their business as Herr Christians 
has. Where does such an actor get his training ? " 

" Of course we have a Conservatorium in Vienna, 
supported by the Government, where the leading 


actors of the Burgtheater and the other- theatres 
officiate as professors. Many of the foremost actors 
take private pupils as well ; but at least three-fourths 
of our actors have been through the Conservatorium. 
The pupils give trial performances from time to 
time; we note those who seem to show promise, 
engage them, or at any rate pay them a retaining 
fee, and send them for a couple of years to one 
of the provincial theatres, to gain experience as 
members of the stock company. We find this 
system answer very well." 

"It seems to me an ideal system. Nothing could 
possibly be better. Here but you can see for 
yourself what the effects of the long-run system 
and the lack of competent instruction are, and 
must be." 

"What I cannot understand," said Mr. Kadelburg, 
"is why you have not here a popular Shakespeare 
Theatre, where Shakespeare and the classical drama 
should be regularly performed at moderate prices." 

"You do not quite realise," I replied, "the 
difficulties of such an enterprise. Still, it would be 
possible, if only we could find a man with the 
requisite knowledge, energy, enthusiasm and capital 
to found such a theatre and carry it on. At the 
same time, it would be neither possible nor desirable 
to rely exclusively on the classical drama. But to 
return to Vienna. I have heard some rumour of 


a new theatre to be subsidised by the municipality. 
Is there such a project ? " 

" Yes ; an Anti-Semitic theatre is to be started by 
the town." 

"What a droll idea! And how is it to manifest 
its Anti-Semitism ? " 

" By having no Jews in its company and excluding 
from its repertory plays written by Jews." 

"It will not open, I presume, with Lessing's 
Nathan der Weisel" 

" Probably not." 

"Now, tell me, Mr. Kadelburg I hope the result 
of your present too short season at Daly's has been 
such as to encourage you to revisit us ? " 

"Nothing could have been more gratifying than 
the artistic success with which we have met, and I 
certainly hope to repeat the experiment. And do 
not be too much surprised if you were one day to 
see Madame Odilon, who speaks excellent English, 
in an English translation of one of her popular 

" An excellent idea ! I wish her and you 
every success. And now many thanks, and aitf 




AGAIN the theory of the well-made play ! Last week 
we had its negation in La Douloureuse; this week its 
affirmation in Spirt ttsme* The fact that M. Sardou's 
latest play made a very doubtful success in Paris, and 
has by no means taken the European stage by storm, 
shows how genuinely and universally the current is 
setting against the well-made play, in the narrow 
sense of the word. Twenty-five years ago Spiritisme 
would have been the event of the theatrical season, 
and every manager in Europe and America would 
have been struggling and scrambling for the rights of 
it; to-day, it is pooh-poohed in Paris and regarded 
abroad as a very doubtful property. True, it does 
not show Sardou quite at his best. It is to some 
extent marred by its controversial episodes and its 
curious illogicality. But it is amusing throughout, and 
the second act is one of the strongest Sardou ever wrote 
an interesting and poignant situation worked out 
with a master-hand. 

The inconsistency of M. Sardou's position is mani- 
fest. He obviously believes in spiritualism in the 
* See note, p. 185. 


existence of disembodied intelligences, and their power 
of communicating with the living yet he has not the 
courage to assign them an essential part in his drama. 
The spirits hover round the outskirts of the action, 
but do not really or effectually mingle in it. The 
hero's belief in them, indeed, helps to bring about 
the conclusion ; but the apparition which so potently 
works upon him is an admitted imposture, a pious 
fraud. Whatever the rights and wrongs of spiritualism, 
the play would certainly have been a better one had 
it been written by a disbeliever. We should then 
have escaped the argumentation amusing, but too 
evidently biassed to be really dramatic and we 
should not have been disconcerted by the three or 
four trivial and unnecessary miracles which M. Sardou 
introduces by way of clinching his profession of faith. 
For instance : Towards the close of Act I. Madame 
d'Aubenas has gone off, nominally to take the night 
train for Poitiers, in reality to pay a visit to her lover, 
M. de Stoudza. When she has gone, her husband 
and his guests arrange a seance and evoke a spirit. 
No sooner have preliminaries been settled than the 
spirit spells out the word "O-u-v-r-e-z." They open 
the window, and behold ! the sky is red with a glare 
which proves to proceed from the burning of the 
train in which Madame d'Aubenas is supposed to have 
started. The incident is effective enough and a little 
creepy ; but its effect is quite incommensurate with the 


strain upon our powers of belief. The thing is sup- 
posed to be a miracle, of that there can be no doubt ; 
but it has not the smallest influence on the course of 
the play, except to bring on the hurry-scurry and 
alarm a few minutes earlier than might otherwise have 
been the case. Now if the spirit, instead of merely 
announcing the accident, had informed M. d'Aubenas 
that his wife was not in it if, for example, it had 
rapped out " Gilberte chez Stoudza "it would have 
been an honest ghost (though indiscreet), and we 
should not have felt that our credulity had been taxed 
to no purpose. Or is it M. Sardou's deliberate inten- 
tion to hint that, though spirit communications are 
genuine enough, they are never of the slightest use ? 

Into the second act no spirits intrude, and the 
drama is really potent and superb. Gilberte has 
passed the night with De Stoudza and is preparing 
to proceed on her journey. A clamour outside 
alarms them, and De Stoudza's servant arrives with 
the news of the catastrophe, and with a paper con- 
taining an account of it. Gilberte's gradual realising 
of the situation is in itself highly dramatic. The 
friend and maid with whom she was to have travelled 
have both met a horrible death, and her own name 
appears in the list of the missing, with an account of 
her husband's agony and despair. Then there comes 
a violent ringing at the bell ; she hides in an adjoining 
room, and her husband and three other men rush in, 


still in their evening dress of the night before, now 
torn and begrimed with their frantic search among 
the charred ruins of the train. There is some hope 
that Gilberte may have caught an earlier train, and it 
is thought that De Stoudza may have information on 
the point. The husband's anguish and despair are 
of really thrilling effect, while we know that Gilberte 
is only a few paces off, hearing, and writhing at, 
every word he utters. He is called away by the 
intelligence that his wife's body has been found ; but 
her cousin and friend Valentin (a naval officer, if I 
understood aright) has got an inkling of the truth, 
and remains in De Stoudza's room when D'Aubenas- 
and the rest go off. In spite of De Stoudza's denials, 
Valentin summons Gilberte from her concealment ; 
and the scene which ensues is altogether masterly. 
What is Gilberte to do ? Confess that she is alive ? 
In that case she changes the tragedy of the situation 
into a grotesque, humiliating, loathsome farce. France 
is ringing with the news of her dreadful death ; to- 
morrow it will be shaking with cynical laughter at her 
escape. Her husband must either give the jest its 
final relish by forgiving her ; or "la femme au chemin- 
de-fer " must be dragged through the Divorce Court 
amid a notoriety a thousand times augmented by her 
adventure. No ! she is dead and she will remain 
dead ; she will bury herself with De Stoudza in the 
recesses of his native Roumania. But this does not 


at all suit Monsieur de Stoudza. What he has all 
along been aiming at is a divorce which should enable 
him to marry her and her fortune. But a dead 
woman cannot be divorced; a dead woman cannot 
carry her fortune with her to her grave in Roumania. 
Little by little, the absolute baseness of the adven- 
turer's nature betrays itself; and on the top of her 
horror, remorse, and penitence towards her husband 
(whose despair has touched her profoundly) Gilberte 
has now to pile contempt for her seducer and loathing 
for the degradation she has undergone. I know few 
scenes so complex in their emotional substance, and 
at the same time so dexterously developed and worked 
up. Undoubtedly the well-made play has its merits, 
and is an art-form deserving of respect. It does not 
go deep, and it does not wear well ; but, at its best, 
it is enormously amusing. 

Let me illustrate what I mean by saying that it 
does not go deep. These people of Sardou's, who 
fret their little hour before us so entertainingly, are not 
characters at all, and have no existence apart from 
the particular action in which they are engaged. 
Imagine trying to transport this Gilberte into 
another play, and construct another action around 
her ! You would find there was nothing to take hold 
of, no temperament, no , organism, nothing but a 
name. She exists in and for these incidents; they, 
and nothing else, are, as it were, her differentia; 


take them away, and she merges indistinguishably in 
abstract conventional humanity. You could (if you 
were Shakespeare) write a totally different play from 
As You Like It, in which Rosalind should re-appear 
and be as clearly and convincingly Rosalind as the 
Fat Knight of the Second Part of Henry IV. is 
clearly and convincingly Falstaff. You could (if you 
were Moliere) take Celimene out of Lc Misanthrope 
and place her in a totally different action, while 
keeping her individuality intact. You could (if you 
were Dumas) write a new play around Francillon ; 
you could (if you were Ibsen) write a new play around 
Nora or Hilda. But though you were Shakespeare 
and Moliere and Dumas and Ibsen in one, you could 
not take Gilberte out of Spiritisme and place her 
that very woman, and no other in a different story. 
She is literally a nonentity. To build another play 
round her would be like making a cannon according 
to the well-known recipe you take a hole and you 
surround it with metal. Madame Sans-Gene, on the 
other hand, is a character, so far as she goes; you 
could easily write another play around her. But 
note, in the first place, that Sardou found the char- 
acter (or something like it) ready made; in the 
second place, that the action is sacrificed to the 
development of character, and that, as soon as 
intrigue takes the upper hand, the play becomes 


Madame Bernhardt was admirable in the second 
act of Spiritisme; she has done nothing better of late 
years. M. Bremont, too, made a very sincere and 
dignified D'Aubenas. 

The performances of the Viennese company,* which 
has just departed after a too short visit, gave us a very 
interesting glimpse into the popular drama of the 
German-speaking world. The first play produced, 
indeed, was not German, but Italian Untreu, by 
Roberto Bracco. It was a clever piece of pure 
dialogue one might describe it as two acts of Fran- 
cillon, with the Screen Scene from The School for 
Scandal sandwiched between them. The originality 
lies in the treatment, which is fresh, vivid, and daring. 
Much less modern, but at the same time more 
interesting as indications of the trend of popular 
taste in Germany, were the two rhymed costume- 
comedies by Franz von Schonthan and Franz Koppell- 
Elffeld, Die Goldene Eva and Renaissance. One 
scarcely knows whether to envy the Germans this 
peculiar dramatic form. It is essentially common- 
place and bourgeois in inspiration, superficial in its 
psychology, conventional in its criticism of life. It 
reminds one strongly of the excellent but unendurable 
Sheridan Knowles, in his moods of elephantine merri- 
ment. This painful association occurred to me when 
I saw Die Goldene Eva ; and when, in Renaissance* 
* See note, p. 207. 


I found the famous Helen-and-Modus scene in The 
Hunchback repeated with a difference, my suspicion 
of an intellectual kinship between the German authors 
and their English predecessor was fully confirmed. 
But the difference aforesaid is important and all- 
pervading. Not only have the Germans a more 
ingenious turn of fantasy than that of the worthy 
Knowles, but their literary form is infinitely lighter 
and brighter. Instead of dull and stodgy blank-verse 
a measure which is either the divinest or the 
deadliest form of human speech they write in free, 
various, graceful and witty rhymes, which give point and 
sparkle to the shallowest humour, and a certain tender 
charm even to commonplace sentiment. It is the 
vivacity of its rhymes alone that lends any merit to 
Die Goldene Eva ; but the conception of Renaissance 
the awakening of narrow puritanism and pedantry 
at the touch of art is really poetical, and the execu- 
tion is ingenious and delightful. It is said that the 
German Emperor went five times to see this play. If 
so, I venture unUrthanigst to applaud his Majesty's 
taste. One may say of this form of comedy what 
M. Faguet says with malicious wit of the belated roman- 
ticism of the Odeon, that it presents "un aliment 
litteraire tres distingue, tres delicat, et d'une incon- 
testable originalite retrospective." The company 
which presents these plays is strong both in in- 
dividual talent and in ensemble. Madanie.Odilon 


is an expert and well-graced actress, with keen in- 
telligence and ample powers of expression. She has 
not the marked individuality of Madame Rejane or 
Miss Rehan, but all that she does is able and interest- 
ing. Herr Christians and Herr Nihl have polish and 
grace in comedy, force, feeling, and technical skill in 
rhetoric. The broad humour of Herren Eppens and 
Kramer in Die Goldene Eva was very clever indeed. 
They would be excellent as Sir Toby Belch and Sir 
Andrew Aguecheek. As for Herr Wallner's perform- 
ance of the old monk in Renaissance^ it was one of 
the most amiable and accomplished pieces of comedy 
I have ever seen on any stage. I trust this company 
will one day give us a fuller taste of its quality. 

At Her Majesty's Theatre, Mr. Sydney Grundy has 
produced a skilful rendering of Mile, de Belle-Isle 
under the title of The Silver Key* The play is one 
of the classics of its school, and is very alert and 
entertaining. I have seen it so often at the Frangais 
in the old days that it no longer thrills me very 
deeply ; but the majority of the audience, to whom 
ignorance meant bliss, were evidently enraptured 
with it. The changes introduced by Mr. Grundy are 
inessential, except that, by running the first two acts 
into one, he has upset the balance of the play and 

* July 10 August ii. The season closed with two perform- 
ances of Hamlet, August 12 and 13. The Silver Key was 
reproduce*! November I 26. 


emphasised the impossibility of the time-scheme. The 
acting is good all round, Mrs. Tree being quite 
admirable as the Marquise, Miss Millard very beau- 
tiful and not unpathetic as Gabrielle, Mr. Tree graceful 
and polished as Richelieu, Mr. Lewis Waller sincere 
and forcible as the Chevalier. 



2 1 st July. 

THE time has come for an earnest remonstrance 
with the Elizabethan Stage Society. Perhaps the 
Society is of opinion that I have all through its 
career been apter at expostulation than at eulogy, 
and has come to class me among its adversaries. 
In that case it does me wrong. It has only to be 
true to its ideals, and exert a reasonable modicum 
of intelligence in the effort to realise them, in order 
to command my warmest sympathy. Far from 
approaching Arden of Fever sham* with any hostile 
prejudice, I went to St. George's Hall full of 
pleasurable anticipation, feeling that here the Society 
had undertaken a task well within the scope of 
its powers and purposes. Marlowe's Faustus\ had 
proved a little beyond its powers ; but this extremely 
* July o. t Theatrical World of 1896, p. 204. 


interesting domestic tragedy was easier to handle 
and likely to prove more effective. At any rate, 
the Society was much more usefully employed in 
reviving a play which was practically unknown,, 
except to professed students, than in giving costume 
recitals of more or less familiar plays of Shakespeare. 
These were my sentiments when I entered the hall. 
How could one possibly foresee that a society which 
aims at restoring the conditions of the Elizabethan 
stage, and, above all, dispensing with the mutilations 
of text necessitated by modern scenery, would not 
only mutilate but break on the wheel, dismember, 
shatter, bray as i'n a mortar, a drama whose artless 
perspicuity of narration is one of its greatest charms ? 
The ordinary vocabulary of criticism is inadequate 
to describe the process of disintegration to which 
these reverent Elizabethans had subjected the un- 
offending play. They had quite literally made a 
hash of it, or rather a mash, a senseless stirabout. 
They began by deliberately sacrificing the one great 
advantage, or at any rate characteristic, of the 
Elizabethan stage its innocence of hampering 
Unity of Place and contrived to concentrate into 
one interior an action which demands at least 
twenty changes of scene, and shifts from Feversham 
to London, and all up and down the north coast 
of Kent. Then they began the action incredible, 
but true exactly in the middle, with the fourth 


scene of the third act. Black Will, Shakebag, and 
Michael are the first characters we see ; who they 
are, or what they are about, no one can possibly 
tell. It is just as though we were to begin Macbeth 
with the scene in which the murderers are lying in 
wait for Banquo. Then we skip back to the last 
scene of the second act, whence we take a flying 
leap into the middle of the first scene of the first 
act. When we reach Alice's first soliloquy, she 
speaks two out of its twelve lines, and ekes them 
out with six lines from another soliloquy in the fifth 
act. It would be tedious and impossible to follow 
our Elizabethans in their game of hop, skip, and 
jump backwards and forwards through Arden of 
Feversham. They are for all the world like grass- 
hoppers in a hay-cock there is no guessing where 
they will pop up next. Never, never, have I seen 
a hapless play so muddled and stultified. Monsieur 
d'Artois' treatment of Lorenzaccio was comparatively 
reverent. And these are the purists who protest 
against the methods of the modern stage, and talk 
about "enlisting public interest in the erection 
of an Elizabethan playhouse in London, as a 
Shakespearian memorial ! " What interest can the 
public possibly take in exhibitions of presumptuous 
foolishness like this (so-called) performance of Arden 
of Fevershaml The acting was very feeble, only 
one gentleman (who played Black Will) showing 


any real talent ; and the stage-management was 
utterly helpless. Such exploits can only bring 
discredit upon the scholarship, the intelligence,., 
nay, the common-sense of the Elizabethan Stage 

"On this occasion," says the programme, in 
English which is neither Elizabethan nor Victorian,, 
"the object of the performance is to show, side by 
side, those portions of two plays that are associated 
with Shakespeare's name, and which differ widely 
in their versification, their dramatic treatment and 
characterisation." The unwary might gather from 
this that Shakespeare's hand was to be traced in 
those " portions " of Arden of Fever sham which 
were presented, and not in the rest. But no one 
has put forward such a theory, nor does the writer 
mean to imply anything of the sort. He is only 
explaining (in his own graceful way) that Arden 
had to be unsparingly cut in order to fit into the 
same programme with the scenes from Edward ///, 
But practically the whole of it could have been 
given if the performance had begun at eight instead 
of nine ; or, if that was impossible and the pruning- 
knife had to be called in, the order of the scenes 
might at leist have been retained, and the story 
comprehensibly set forth. The idea of placing 
Arden in contrast with the Roxborough Castle 
scenes from Edward III. was in itself a good one, 

; "EDWARD III." 231 

and, as the latter episode was acted with spirit and 
intelligence, the evening was not, after all, entirely 

The juxtaposition was really very curious. While 
Arden of Feversham was being recited, a still, small 
voice in the background of one's consciousness kept 
up a running protest against the theory that this 
was the work of Shakespeare. Even in the mangled 
remains of the tragedy, one could feel not only 
the short-windedness of its versification, but the 
absolutely un-Shakespearian quality of its psycho- 
logical method. Then came the scenes from Edward 
III. I blush to confess that I had not read this 
play; and yet I cannot regret the ignorance which 
procured me a keen and unexpected sensation. 
Before twenty lines had been spoken, the still, small 
voice aforesaid was whispering " Shakespeare ! " 
and ever as the recitation proceeded the whisper 
grew louder and more emphatic : " Shakespeare ! 
Manifestly Shakespeare ! Shakespeare all over ! 
Shakespeare without the shadow of a doubt ! " It 
was a curious and memorable experience thus to 
stumble, as it were, upon an unknown page of 
Shakespeare to hear the familiar, incomparable 
voice uttering, in characteristic profusion, these 
unfamiliar but fascinating and delicately "conceited" 
things. Not altogether dissimilar must have been 
the thrill with which two Oxford scholars the other 


day deciphered on a shred of papyrus the words 
Legei lesous, and after them the sentence, "Raise 
the stone, and there ye shall find me ; cleave the 
wood, and there am I." Take, for instance, these 
lines of Edward's after the Countess of Salisbury has 
repulsed his advances : 

" Whether is her beauty by her words divine ; 
Or are her words sweet chaplains to her beauty? 
Like as the wind doth beautify a sail, 
And as a sail becomes the unseen wind, 
So do her words her beauty, beauty words." 

Who could have written this but Shakespeare, the 
young Shakespeare in the springtide of his poetical, 
as opposed to his dramatic, power? But single lines 
and detached sequences are always treacherous evi- 
dence. Here we have (in Act I., Scene 2, and in 
Act II., Scenes i and 2) between eight and nine 
hundred lines without a single patently un-Shake- 
spearian word, verse, or trait of any sort ; abounding 
in all the characteristics, good and bad, of his early 
" honey-tongued " period ; and containing a line 
("Lilies that fester smell far worse than weeds") 
which he adopts and treats as his own at a con- 
spicuous point in the most personal of his writings, 
his Sonnets. If this concurrence of probabilities do 
not constitute a practical certainty, we must abandon 
all arguments based upon style. Look at the scene 


between Edward and Lodowick does it not give us 
a glimpse into the very workshop of the amatory 
poet ? Study the copious and somewhat frigid casu- 
istry of Warwick's speeches to his daughter is not 
this Shakespeare playing with his tools ? Have we 
not here the 'prentice-work of the pen which, some 
dozen years later, wrote the speeches of Ulysses in 
Troilus and Cressida ? What other poet had at his 
command such unchastened wealth of imagery, such 
well-nourished smoothness of style? If this be not 
Shakespeare's work, all I can say is that some name- 
less poet has out-Shakespeared Shakespeare. If I 
were asked to select a characteristic specimen of 
Shakespeare's style in the years antecedent to Romeo 
and Juliet, I verily believe I should choose the second 
act of Edward III. 

The difference between Arden of Feversham and 
these scenes of Edward III. is simply this : in Arden 
there are a few lines (some fifty, perhaps, out of two 
thousand five hundred) which more or less strongly 
suggest Shakespeare, whereas in the Roxborough 
Castle episode there is scarcely a line that does not 
seem to bear his sign-manual. One or two expres- 
sions and cadences in Arden curiously foreshadow 
definite passages in Shakespeare. For instance, 
Mosbie's "Nay, if you ban, let me breathe curses 
forth," at once recalls Hamlet's "Nay, an thou'lt 
mouth, I'll rant as well as thou ; " while Alice Arden's 


" What ! groans thou ? Nay, then give me the 
weapon ! " suggests Lady Macbeth's " Infirm of pur- 
pose ! Give me the daggers ! " In these cases one 
could almost imagine that Shakespeare, having been 
familiar with Arden of Feversham in his youth (per- 
haps having acted in it) remembered and deliberately 
reproduced, many years afterwards, two turns of 
phrase that had in their day proved notably effective. 
There are other passages in which the coincidence is 
one of style rather than of actual words ; but they 
are very brief, and are separated by endless stretches 
of prosaic verse (with frequent and unintentional 
patches of sheer prose), from which the Shakespearian 
touch is conspicuously absent. If there were the 
slightest external evidence to bring Shakespeare into 
connection with the play, I should think it probable 
enough that he was interested in it, studied it, wrote 
in a few lines here and there (perhaps at rehearsal), 
and remembered some of its effects in later life. But 
all this is pure fantasy, innocent enough if we do not 
propound it as fact. On the other hand, my fantasy 
stops short at the effort to conceive that the pen 
which wrote Romeo and Juliet and A Midsummer 
Nights Dream could anywhere in the same century 
produce such lines as these : 

ALICE. In good time see where my husband comes. 

Master Mosbie, ask him the question yourself. 

"EDWARD III." 235 

MOSBIE. Master Arden, being at London yesternight, 

The Abbey lands, whereof you are now possessed, 

Were offered me on some occasion 

By Greene, one of Sir Antony Ager's men. 

It would take a whole essay to show that the psycho- 
logical style of Arden is as unlike Shakespeare's as 
the literary style. But the evidence of the literary 
style suffices. Even those brief passages which seem 
Shakespearian do not show the special characteristics, 
good or bad, of his early period, during which the 
play must have been written those characteristics 
which mark every line of the Edward III. scenes. 
I know that this argument runs directly counter, in 
both particulars, to the authority of Mr. Swinburne ; 
but, with all regret and respect, I cannot help it. I 
do not even find, with Mr. Swinburne, that Arden 
shows the hand of a young man. It strikes me as 
the work of a man of mature experience and singular 
talent, but an amateur in literature and drama. Even 
in Shakespeare's earliest work there is more of the 
craftsman, actual or potential. May not the play 
have been written by some local gentleman (like the 
Lord Cheiny introduced in it), who took a special 
interest in this particular theme, and made no other 
excursion into letters ? This would account both for 
its anonymity (since play-writing was by no means a 
gentlemanly pursuit) and for its having been touched 
up by another hand conceivably Shakespeare's. 




ONE of the intellectual amusements of my schooldays 
was to make a formless scrabble of ink on a piece of 
paper, and, while the ink was still wet, to fold the paper 
together. When reopened, it exhibited a hideous 
blot, to which, however, its sheer symmetry im- 
parted a semblance of design ; so that the eye of 
imagination could find in it a butterfly, or a dragon, 
or a spread-eagle, or some other bipennate and fan- 
tastic object. The composition of Four Little Girls* 
a farce by Mr. W. S. Craven, now running at the 
Criterion, must have been just such an intellectual 
amusement. A mechanical and meaningless sym- 
metry is the beginning and end of the author's art. 
In place' of humour he gives us symmetry; in place 
of ingenuity symmetry; in place of character- 
symmetry; in place of sense symmetry. Two 
widower fathers, being about to marry their two 
widow housekeepers, want their two sons to marry 
the two housekeepers' two daughters. But the two 
sons have already married two wives of their own 
choosing, and the two housekeepers' two daughters 
* July 17 August 7. 


are already engaged to two other young men. Throw 
in a tutor, out of Betsy ^ at the beginning of the cast, 
and at the end a slavey out of Our Boys and seven 
hundred and fifty other farces, and you have the 
symmetry perfected. Every second scene takes the 
form of a pair of compasses, with the tutor for its 
pivot, thus : 


A. Father Father 13. 

A. Son Son B. 

A. Son's Wife Son's Wife B. 

A. Housekeeper Housekeeper B. 

A. Housekeeper's Housekeeper B's 

Daughter Daughter 

I am not prepared to make affidavit that this precise 
tableau ever occurs ; but this is the type towards which 
every grouping tends. The stage-manager is for ever 
constructing an isosceles triangle building and de- 
molishing the pons asinorum. If Housekeeper A's 
daughter goes off with Father A's son into con- 
servatory, R.U.E., we are sure that three minutes 
will not have elapsed before Housekeeper B's daughter 
will be flirting with Father B's son in conservatory, 
L.U.E. No sooner has Son A's wife fainted down 
stage L, than Son B's wife takes the opportunity of 
swooning down stage R. I shall be told that this is 
precisely the fun of the thing. It is the only fun of 
the thing, I admit; but the propositions are not 


quite identical. People laughed at the farce, it is 
true, for Mr. James Welch, who played the tutor, 
is funny in the stupidest part, and Messrs. Barnes 
and Blakeley,* who played the fathers, are capital 
comedians. When I left the theatre, at the end of 
the second act, the piece promised to be a success ; 
and for aught I know it may keep its promise. But 
I doubt it. The first-night audience, or rather a 
certain class of first-night audience, has a tolerance, 
if not an absolute taste, for the merely ignoble, which 
the great public, one hopes, does not really share. 
We critics are too apt to take a first-night audience, 
however composed, for the great public, and merely 
to shrug our shoulders at its imbecilities. We gloze 
over ineptitudes with conventional phrases, and it is 
only when a piece begins to have merit that we begin 
to be critical. This is a mistake almost a betrayal 
of trust. For once, then, I am moved to be quite 
sincere, and to say that Four Little Girls is saddening 
and humiliating stuff. Apart from its geometrical 
variations of figure, its humour is sheer naught, con- 
sisting largely of such age-old quips as " He wants 

you to marry " "The devil!" "No, not the 

devil Miss Middleage." Much of it, moreover, is 
highly mock-valentinish and unpleasing. Absolutely 
indecent the farce is not; it is merely vapid and 
ignoble. I cannot conceive any reason why people 
* Mr. William Blakeley died December 8, 1.897. 


should seek entertainment in these "loves of the 
triangles," when they have such an intellectual master- 
piece (comparatively speaking) as A Night Out inviting 
them every evening. 


ist September. 

PLAYGOERS who want but little here below, and want 
that little long, will find just what they require in The 
Sleeping Partner* at the Criterion. This farcico- 
sentimental play is an English version of an American 
adaptation (by Miss Martha Morton) of a German 
comedy. It is far too long for its substance, which is 
of the slenderest ; but it is quite inoffensive, occa- 
sionally amusing, and very well acted. Mr. James 
Welch is excellent as the limpet father-in-law whose 
intrusive affection goes near to ruining his daughter's 
married life. He might put more movement, it seems 
to me, into the first act, especially at the close ; but 
in the later acts he plays with most artistic sobriety 
and finish. Miss Lena Ashwell is skilful, natural, and 
charming as the too-devoted daughter; Mr. Fred 
Terry, Mr. F. H. Tyler, and Miss Ada Branson are 
* August 17 September 25. 


all good; and Mr. Richard Lambart contributes an 
eccentric character-sketch of some merit. 

In Mr. George Alexander's provincial repertory, As 
You Like It naturally holds a prominent place, and 
he has found in Miss Fay Davis a delightful Rosalind. 
There is more in the character than Miss Davis as 
yet brings out of it, but she imports nothing into it 
that is foreign or inharmonious. She is graceful, 
spontaneous, intelligent. If here and there she slips 
or slurs a point, she is at least innocent of the much 
more destructive error of laborious point-making. 
One may say of Miss Davis what Mr. Arthur 
Symons says of Viola in his interesting Studies in Two 
Literatures, that she has not "the over-brimming life, 
the intense and dazzling vitality, of Rosalind." She 
has not yet penetrated to the depths of the part, but 
she presents its surface aspects with singular charm. 
The whole performance, at the Grand Theatre, Isling- 
ton, seemed to me thoroughly enjoyable. Mr. 
Alexander's Orlando is manly and spirited, Mr. 
Vernon's Jaques is as admirable as ever, Miss Mabel 
Hackney makes a bright and pleasant Celia, Miss 
Julie Opp an imposing Phebe. No part, indeed, is 
less than efficiently filled, and everything is tuned to 
the right key. 




%th September. 

THE German drama has a peculiar interest for us, 
inasmuch as it is running a sort of race with our own. 
The present movement began almost simultaneously 
in the two countries, and, although there is no de- 
liberate competition between the . two groups of play- 
wrights, they may not unfairly or uninstructively be 
measured against each other. The Germans had 
some initial advantages not to be overlooked. In 
the first place, the drama had never fallen so low in 
Germany as in England. Friedrich Hebbel, Gutzkow, 
Laube, Freytag, Anzengruber, were the contempor- 
aries of our Knowles, Lytton, Reade, Taylor, and 
Robertson and the Germans were, individually and 
collectively, a far stronger set of men. In the second 
place, there is a much wider opening for artistic 
work in Germany and Austria, with all their sub- 
sidised and unsubsidised theatres, than in I was 
going to say England, but for present purposes 
England means simply the West End of London. 
Notwithstanding these advantages, however, the Ger- 
man drama from 1870 to about 1885 had fallen, like 



our own, almost entirely under the dominion of France. 
Original playwrights, so-called, produced either trivial 
farces or weak imitations of Sardou. There, as here, 
a new generation came to the front between 1885 
and 1890. There, even more than here, the influence 
of Norway of Bjornson as well as Ibsen helped 
to correct, or at least to supplement, the influence of 
France. It is this movement of the past decade that 
one inevitably compares with our own ; and I have 
been fortunate enough during the past month to see 
two characteristic plays by the two leaders of the 
movement, Sudermann and Hauptmann. 

Let it not be supposed, however, that Sudermann 
and Hauptmann are the most popular playwrights of 
the Fatherland. No ! at the popular theatres, the 
Tivolis, Casinos, Stadtgartens, and so forth, the 
heroes of the hour are Messrs. Brandon Thomas and 
Harry Paulton. Niobe and Charlies Tante have only 
one serious competitor in public favour, and that is 
Trilby. There must clearly be some element of 
universal appeal in this Anglo-Franco-American fairy 
tale, since it has made its barefoot pilgrimage, as 
Ouida would say, from Tobolsk to Tangier. In 
Germany, at any rate, Trilby figures in every book- 
shop and at every beer-garden. I did not pay my 
devoirs to her; but somewhere or other at Mann- 
heim, I think I saw a photograph of the local 
Svengali, a sort of marionette ogre who would 


certainly have made Mr. Beerbohm Tree's flesh 

The play of Sudermann's which came in my way 
was not a favourable specimen of his manner. It 
was a four-act comedy, Die Schmetterlingschlacht, as 
who should say The Battle of the Butterflies. The 
butterflies in question are the three daughters of a 
deceased official, who have been brought up by their 
mother with the sole, and avowed, and carefully 
inculcated, design of making wealthy marriages. In 
the meantime, they earn a scanty sustenance by 
decorating fans ; the youngest, Rosi, a girl of sixteen, 
having a genius for designing "butterfly battles," 
which the others paint. The action is in the highest 
degree sordid and uninviting. The miserly employer 
of this happy family has a son whom his hard usage 
has reduced almost to imbecility. The son, Max, 
falls in love with the eldest of the three girls, Else. 
Now Else is carrying on a flirtation, which seems to 
have gone to considerable lengths, with the chief 
traveller of the firm, a bouncing personage whose 
boast it is that when he travels second class people 
take him for an officer in mufti. Else has a hearty con- 
tempt for the ungainly and helpless Max ; but she has 
been too carefully brought up not to know that, having 
hooked a millionaire's son, it is her duty to land him. 
At the same time, while officially betrothed to Max, 
she keeps up her relations with the fascinating bag- 


man, using her sister, Rosi, as a screen to conceal 
them. Rosi, however, is not only the cleverest but 
the best of the family. She has an inborn sense of 
honour and decency which her mother's precepts and 
her sisters' example cannot altogether deaden. The 
upshot is that even the purblind Max discovers Else's 
unworthiness, and transfers his affections to Rosi, 
who has all the time loved him in secret. Thus the 
millions remain in the family; Else can, no doubt, 
marry her migratory Adonis ; and the third sister, 
Laura, can angle at her ease for the middle-aged Graf 
on whom her mind is set. This ferocious satire on 
German middle-class life may or may not be just : all 
I know is that it makes a profoundly uninteresting 
play. There is merit in the character-drawing, 
especially in the figure of the genuinely devoted 
mother, to whom bitter poverty has made fortune- 
hunting appear in the light of a sacred duty ; but the 
dramatic invention is poor, the execution is heavy- 
handed, and the play, as a whole, seems hopelessly 
flat and uninspired. If Sudermann had written 
nothing else, he would be out of the running in 
the race aforesaid. But he has written the first 
and third acts of Die Ehre, Heimat, and, above all, 
Teia and Fritzcheri, the first two playlets of that 
curious trilogy Morituri: these are the works that 
make him a really formidable competitor to our 
leading playwrights. The only feature of Die Schmet- 


terlingschlacht to which I would invite their attention 
is its frankly middle-class material. I think we have 
of late given ourselves up too exclusively to studies 
of a somewhat conventional upper-class, and of 
"society" narrowly so called. Like Pooh Bah in 
The Mikado, we have taken no notice of any one 
under the rank of a stockbroker. The public, I 
fancy, is a little tired of Mayfair, and would fain make 
an occasional trip to Peckham or Canonbury. There 
is a success in store for the playwright who shall be 
daringly suburban, though his suburbanism need by 
no means be so prosaic as Sudermann's. 

The second play I saw Die versunkene Glocke, by 
Gerhart Hauptmann is the reverse of prosaic. He 
calls it a Mdrchen drama, and it is, in fact, something 
like a mingling of Tannhauser and A Midsummer 
Nighfs Dream, with a touch of Peer Gynt thrown in. 
The latest work of this as yet but half-ripe man of 
genius who began with ultra-naturalism in Vor Son- 
nenaufgang only seven years ago it has been a great 
success at all the leading theatres of Germany, while 
in the book-market it has gone through five-and- 
twenty editions. Hauptmann is a real poet, of that 
there is no doubt; there are exquisite passages in 
this Sunken Bell ; but it assuredly is not a work of 
the first order. Its symbolism is obscure and elusive ; 
but that may be said of other and greater works. 
The fatal defect is, that neither scene by scene nor 


in its general scheme is it really dramatic. Without 
any sacrifice of either poetry or symbolism, a man of 
truly dramatic genius might have made the same 
theme scenically absorbing. As it is, the effect of 
the scenes depends on their lyric beauty, not on their 
dramatic strength, and I own I was all the time 
yearning for the music which the author, or at any 
rate the management, sternly denied us. The story 
is this : Heinrich, a famous bell-founder, has made a 
great bell for a church which has been built at the 
top of a mountain. As it is being dragged up the 
mountain side, a malicious satyr upsets the cart, the 
bell rolls down into the depths of the lake, and the 
bell-founder either falls or throws himself after it. 
Not into the lake, however ; he falls into the arms of 
Rautendelein, " an elfin creature," a sort of dryad or 
nixie, who lives with her witch-grandmother in the 
forest. The Priest, the Schoolmaster, and the Barber 
carry him off to his home in the valley, where his wife 
and two children await him; but he is on the point 
of dying when Rautendelein comes down and breathes 
new life into him. He follows her up to the mountain, 
and for some time flourishes greatly. He is full of 
vast plans for artistic effort and the regeneration of 
humanity; but somehow or other (one does not quite 
know why, for the machinery of the poem is as vague 
as its ethics) his plans all go wrong and he sickens of 
everything. The end comes when he sees his two 


children toiling up the mountain carrying between 
them a heavy pitcher : 

HEINRICH. What bear ye in the pitcher, clear my children ? 

FIRST CHILD. Salt water. 

SECOND CHILD. Bitter water. 

FIRST CHILD. Mother's tears. 

At the same moment the voice of the sunken bell 
booms forth from the depths of the lake, and Heinrich 
casts off Rautendelein with curses, and flees down 
the mountain. It is characteristic of Hauptmann's 
seemingly deliberate carelessness of dramatic effect 
that not till the next and last act do we learn (and 
then in mere narrative) that the deserted wife has 
drowned herself, and that it is her spirit which has 
caused the bell to sound. Heinrich, in this act, 
comes back to seek Rautendelein and die, and the 
play ends with a really exquisite lyrical colloquy 
between them. It is reported, I know not with what 
truth, that there is an undercurrent of autobiographic 
reference in Die versunkene Glocke, the bell itself 
typifying Hauptmann's last great play, Florian Geyer, 
which met with a disastrous fate. Be this as it may, 
the poem evidently allegorises the old story of genius 
depressed by the dead air of the valley of domes- 
ticity, and seeking new life and inspiration in the 
freer atmosphere of the mountains not to say the 
"hill-tops." But what, in this case, is the allegoric 


function of the bell which gives the play its name ? 
There is no sign that before it fell Heinrich was 
in the least dissatisfied with his life in the valley; 
and the fact that the starting-point and turning-point of 
the play seem both to lie outside the symbolic scheme 
gives colour to the rumour that it took its rise in per- 
sonal circumstances. The moral of the fable, as I 
understand it, is that however fine an influence may 
be in itself and Rautendelein is, in the main, a 
beautiful and benignant creature it cannot be per- 
manently helpful if it demand the sacrifice of funda- 
mental affections and duties. This is no very original 
doctrine, nor, I repeat, is it very clearly conveyed ; 
but the allegory and its moral would be of little 
enough moment were the drama interesting and really 
dramatic. To my thinking, it is, on the contrary, 
diffuse and wordy, though about a third of the printed 
text is omitted in representation. The really dramatic 
opportunities of the theme are either slurred or 
entirely missed, while the poet poetises at large. It 
is only just to him to add that I saw the play under 
most depressing circumstances at the Frankfort 
Schauspielhaus the mounting bad, the stage-manage- 
ment helpless, the acting third-rate. I suspect the 
good people of Frankfort of starving their play- 
house to feed their opera-house an immoral pro- 





\$th September. 

IT seems as though Secret Service had put English 
playwrights on their mettle, for its successor on the 
Adelphi boards is by far the best home-made melo- 
drama we have seen for many a day. Not that 
Messrs. Haddon Chambers and Comyns Carr have 
suddenly been seized with vaulting ambition. They 
have attempted no departure from the beaten track. 
Out of popular materials, and by popular methods, 
they have concocted a popular play. The only novel 
element they have introduced into the compound 
is brains. They have shown ingenuity in conception, 
tact in development. They have imagined a situa- 
tion, a dilemma, of great emotional capacity; they 
have worked it out through a series of picturesque 
scenes and unexpected conjunctures; and they have 
written a patriotic military drama without a single 
passage of music-hall patriotism or vulgar bluster. 
Though the title is In the Days of the Duke* and the 
main action lies between the Peninsula and Waterloo, 
the play might be presented in Paris without seriously 
* September 9 November 20. 


wounding French susceptibilities. This dignity of 
tone I applaud with both hands and with all my heart. 
If we must fight our battles over again on the stage 
and Shakespeare, truly, set the precedent let us try 
to do so more or less like gentlemen, and not like a 
set of swaggering, posturing, and often puling mounte- 
banks. Of all ebullitions of patriotism I can remem- 
ber on the stage, that which is least objectionable and 
probably truest to nature is Major Tarver's reply, in 
Dandy Dick, to Salome's inquiry, " What would you 
do if the trumpet summoned you to battle ? " " Oh, I 
suppose I should pack up a few charcoal biscuits and 
toddle out, you know." 

The story of In the Days of the Duke is really well 
imagined. The Prologue, spirited and interesting in 
itself, sets on foot a very nicely-balanced action, 
adjusted with something of French inventiveness and 
dexterity. According to the strict rules of the game, 
the calumny against the hero's father should not have 
leaked out through a chance utterance of the subor- 
dinate villain which the hero by chance overhears, 
but should have been deliberately put abroad by the 
villain-in-chief to serve his own wicked ends. Again, 
the oath sworn by the hero's mother that she will 
never let her son know of her shame is a feeble and 
improbable expedient. Some other reason ought to 
have been devised to reinforce her natural unwilling- 
ness to disclose the truth to him. These details 


excepted, the whole imbroglio of the letter (which 
makes it impossible to clear the father's honour in the 
son's eyes except at the expense of the mother's good 
name) is excellently conceived and developed. Scene 
after scene has the merit of carrying the emotion 
a step further, and higher, than one foresees at the 
outset of superadding, as it were, a touch of fresh 
invention to the mere logical working-out of the given 
problem. The scene in Paris between Mrs. Aylmer 
and Colonel Lanson did not come out quite so 
strongly as it ought to have done, chiefly, I think, on 
account of a momentary failure of grip on the part of 
Miss Marion Terry, who, for the rest, acted with 
sincerity and charm. From the passage in the 
gaming-house onwards, the pictorial element rather 
took the upper hand of the dramatic; but the interest 
of the story was, on the whole, sustained with toler- 
able success. The duel-scene was highly picturesque, 
and one really regretted the untimely end of the 
subordinate villain, O'Hara, who, in the hands of Mr. 
J. D. Beveridge, was a very pleasant specimen of the 
good-humoured scoundrel. The Duchess of Rich- 
mond's ball was excellently put on the stage, but the 
Highland Reel struck me as curiously spiritless, the 
music seeming slow and the dancers self-conscious 
and embarrassed. As for the last act, at Hougomont 
after the battle, it was perhaps unnecessarily elegiac, 
but it brought the action to a fairly effective and 


satisfactory close. The play, I repeat, is nothing but 
a spectacular, military melodrama of the most ordi- 
nary type; but it is conceived, constructed, and staged 
with far more than ordinary cleverness and care. 

Professor Saintsbury is never tired of insisting that 
the only way to write historical romance is to make 
your leading characters entirely fictitious and keep 
your real personages on the second plane. Messrs. 
Chambers and Carr have, by chance or design, acted 
on this principle with the happiest results. It could 
only render the Duke of Wellington ridiculous to give 
him a prominent place, a personal interest, in an 
Adelphi melodrama. Therefore they have kept him 
practically outside the action, in which he intervenes 
only as a sort of deits ex machind ; so that while we 
are always conscious of his presence in the back- 
ground, his dignity is in no way sacrificed. Mr. 
Charles Fulton looks the part admirably, and plays 
it with firmness and discretion. Mr. Terriss plays 
both the Colonel Aylmer of the Prologue and the 
Captain Aylmer of the play, and looks equally well in 
both characters. Miss Millward makes the most of 
a heroine who has very little to do; and the comic 
relief, not over refined but now and then amusing, 
is in the hands of Mr. Harry Nicholls and Miss Vane 

In Miss Francis of Yale* a farce by Mr. Michael 
* September 7 October 30. 


Morton, at the Globe, we plod through two acts of 
unamusing and unpleasing buffoonery, in order to 
reach a third act in which the horseplay becomes 
really entertaining in its boisterous fashion. Miss 
Francis is 'evidently a direct descendant of Charlie's 
Atmt. In other words, she is Charlie's Cousin, a 
great many times removed indeed, 

" No more like to Charlie 
Than he to Hercules." 

Mr. Weedon Grossmith is far too able a comedian for 
such a part as Frank Stayner, but all that can be made 
of it he makes. Other parts are well played by Mr. 
H. Reeves-Smith, Mr. Arthur Playfair, Mr. C. P. 
Little, Mr. Mark Kinghorne, Miss May Palfrey, and 
Miss Ethel Hope; and the first-night audience seemed, 
on the whole, to relish the farce. 

In the reproduction of A Marriage of Convenience* 
at the Haymarket, Mr. Frederick Harrison takes the 
part of the Comte de Candale, originally played by 
Mr. Terriss. Mr. Harrison was naturally nervous on 
the first night, and had not quite recovered the habit 
of the stage, which rusts in disuse like any other 
habit. By this time his performance will no doubt 
have acquired the ease which was what it chiefly 
lacked. The cast was otherwise unaltered, and the 
play went well. It was preceded by The Tarantula^ 
* See p. 1 66. t September 4 November 4. 


a farce by Miss (or Mrs.) Mary Affleck Scott inno- 
cent, but elementary in its humour. It showed us 
Mr. Brandon Thomas as a crazy Scotch entomologist, 
a line of character in which he is always amusing. 

First-night applause may be roughly classified under 
three heads. There is first the applause due to mere 
politeness, friendship, and thoughtless good-nature, 
proceeding from people who do not ask themselves 
whether a piece of acting is good or bad, whether it 
has or has not given them pleasure, but simply clap 
because it is expected of them and because it is 
pleasanter to approve than disapprove. Secondly, 
we have the applause of personal fanatics (often quite 
disinterested in their mania) who think this actor or 
that the greatest genius that ever lived, and bellow 
themselves hoarse whatever he does and however he 
does it. The third and rarest sort of applause, easily 
distinguishable from the other two, is that in which 
the spontaneous and irrepressible delight of the whole 
audience finds utterance; in which intelligent appreci- 
ation chimes in with fanaticism and good-nature; in 
which the actor, if he have any delicacy of ear, can 
detect the tribute of the few amid the facile plaudits 
of the many. Such was the applause which at many 
points greeted Mr. Forbes Robertson's Hamlet on 
Saturday night* notably at the end of the second act, 
and at the close of the play. It was indeed an admir- 
* Lyceum, September n December 18. 

"HAMLET." 255 

able performance, falling short in only one respect of 
what may be called a reasonable ideal. The grace 
and distinction of Hamlet, his affability (to use a 
needlessly degraded word), his melancholy, his in- 
tellectual discursiveness all these aspects of the 
many-sided character Mr. Robertson brought out 
to perfection. He shone especially in the mono- 
logues. I have never heard any similar passage of 
Shakespeare better delivered than the "Oh, what 
a rogue and peasant slave am I " soliloquy, as treated 
by Mr. Robertson. His method of introducing it, 
while conning a prompt-book of the play handed him 
by the First Actor, is at once ingenious and unforced; 
and the way in which he graduates and varies it is 
quite masterly. He makes it a little drama in itself. 
Not quite so happy is his treatment of the " To be or 
not to be " speech. His face seems to light up at the 
phrase " To sleep perchance to dream ! " whereas 
the thought should clearly overcloud the momentary 
serenity with which Hamlet has been contemplating 
the " consummation devoutly to be wished." On the 
whole, however, Mr. Robertson's handling of the 
meditative passages could scarcely have been im- 
proved. It was so good that one doubly regretted 
the omission of the " Now could I do it pat " * speech. 
Having restored Fortinbras at the close, moreover, 
Mr. Robertson might surely have managed to get in 
* Afterwards restored. 


the soliloquy " How all occasions do inform against 
me," hitherto omitted along with the " occasion " 
which inspires it. As it is, the introduction of For- 
tinbras lends dignity and picturesqueness to the final 
scene, but is of no literary value. The only point 
in which Mr. Robertson's performance is notably 
defective happens, unfortunately, to be a rather im- 
portant one : he slurs and almost ignores that 
nervous excitability on Hamlet's part which merges 
so naturally, nay, almost indistinguishably, into his 
pretended madness. We do not nowadays waste 
time in arguments about Hamlet's sanity. If Hamlet 
is mad, which of us shall 'scape Hanwell? He 
deliberately puts on an "antic disposition" to serve 
him at once as a mask and a weapon to protect him 
from his uncle's malice and at the same time to 
further his revenge. But there can be no doubt that 
the assumption of lunacy is congenial to him, and 
that he uses it as a safety-valve for pent-up emotion. 
He is in a state of nervous overstrain which finds 
relief in fantastic ejaculations, scathing ironies, wild 
and whirling words of every sort, quite apart from 
their calculated effect upon others. Now Mr. Forbes 
Robertson makes, one may almost say, as little as 
possible of Hamlet's assumed lunacy and real hysteria. 
It was probably this side of the character that chiefly 
appealed both to actors and audiences, in Shake- 
speare's own day. Our forefathers took a delight in 

" HAMLET." 257 

the contemplation of insanity which we no longer feel, 
and it is evident that their actors revelled in exhibi- s 
tions of mopping, mowing, and gibbering, such as 
would merely inspire us with disgust. But the very 
fact that Hamlet's madness is assumed makes it quite 
endurable even to modern nerves, and I can conceive 
no reason, whether of art or expediency, for the 
exceeding tameness of Mr. Forbes Robertson's acting 
in such passages as the end of the first act (after the 
departure of the Ghost) and the great scene with 
Ophelia. He omits a good many of the wild and 
whirling words, and he puts no force or gusto into 
those he utters. Such a phrase, for instance, as 
"Aha, boy, art thou there!" addressed to the Ghost 
" in the cellarage," he speaks with respectful melan- 
choly, instead of the feverish freakishness which is 
surely the keynote of this scene. I cannot but hope 
that Mr. Robertson will reconsider these scenes, which 
are certainly well within his compass. Artistic self- 
restraint is a very good thing, but in this case it verges 
on timidity. One or two individual readings I would 
gladly discuss with Mr. Robertson if space permitted. 
As it is, I can only refer him to Dramatic Essays, by 
George Henry Lewes (ed. 1896, p. 176), for proof 
that the strain by which " Nemean " can be got into 
the metre is not only uncalled-for but positively wrong. 
Shakespeare scanned the word as Virgil did 
" Nemean." 



The other parts are not very fortunately cast. Mrs. 
Patrick Campbell's Ophelia cannot rank among her 
successes ; Mr. Barnes is a far too robust and stolid 
Polonius; Miss Granville, as the Queen, looks 
absurdly young, and shows a total lack of experience 
in this class of work; no one, in short, except Mr. 
Forbes Robertson, rises above mediocrity. But he 
rises so far above it as to make the revival interesting 
and memorable.* 

* Letter to the Editor of the "Daily Chronicle.' 1 ' 1 

SIR, May I beg you to reconsider the judgment expressed 
in your leading article of to-day that Mr. Forbes Robertson and 
the Lyceum company in general take Hamlet in too quick 
time ? The bane of almost all recent Shakespearian acting has 
been its torturing slowness; and if the Lyceum performance 
does indeed mark the setting-in of a reaction against this evil 
habit, criticism ought to encourage instead of checking it. Mr. 
Forbes Robertson happens to be an actor with a voice and a 
competent method of elocution. He is thus in a position to 
attempt, and often (as I think you will agree) to compass, the 
effects of fluent and impetuous diction which Shakespeare 
obviously intended. He is not compelled to cast about for 
subtleties of meaning which Shakespeare obviously did not 
intend, in order to mask and excuse the breathing-spaces re- 
quired by deficient physical power, and lack of skill in the 
management of the voice. He seeks his effects in Shakespeare's 
words, not in his own pauses ; and that is what makes his 
performance, in spite of evident limitations, so vivid, fresh, and 
interesting as it is on all hands admitted to be. For my part, 
I was at no point conscious of any undue haste ; but that, you 




2 2nd September. 

WHY, Mr. Esmond, oh, why did you kill "the 
Kiddy"? This is out-Heroding Herod with a ven- 

will say, is merely a personal impression. Well, I appeal to 
Shakespeare, who probably knew at what speed his scenes could 
be most effectively taken. We know that the normal duration 
of a performance in Shakespeare's day (probably without 
entr'actes) was from two hours to two hours and a half. At the 
Lyceum, with very brief entr'actes, and with no time wasted 
on mere show and spectacle, the performance lasted nearly 
three hours and a half. We may safely say, I think, that 
the curtain was actually up and the play proceeding for 
full three hours ; yet immense cuts were made, a good half 
of the fourth act being entirely omitted, and long scenes 
and speeches dropped out at many other points. We can 
scarcely suppose, indeed, that the whole text, as it stands in the 
Folio or the 1604 Quarto, was spoken even in Shakespeare's 
time ; but there is no reason to assume that the cuts were any- 
thing like so heroic as those which are nowadays thought 
necessary. Even admitting that half as much was cut at the 
Globe as at the Lyceum (a very large admission), and supposing 
the time of performance extended, in the case of so popular 
a play, to three hours, it would still follow that Burbage, 
Shakespeare, and their fellow-actors must have spoken their 
words a good deal more rapidly than Mr. Forbes Robertson and 
his comrades, and given less time to " business " Let us pause, 


geance. A more wanton and indefensible child- 
murder was never committed on any stage. It is 
worse than inhuman it is inartistic. Don't tell me 
of extenuating circumstances. It is true we hadn't 
seen him in the flesh, but that makes it all the 
harder. Perhaps if we had seen him we shouldn't 
have minded so much. He was mirrored for us in 
Dick Rudyard's love and pride untainted by the 
egoism of parentage and his little figure irradiated 
the background of your play. It is equally useless to 
allege that his death affords you a novel and striking 
"curtain," and secures for Mr. Hawtrey a fine oppor- 
tunity of proving that there is a pathetic side to his 
talent All this is true enough. I am not aware that 
any one before you has ended a comedy in a flood of 
tears, and Mr. Hawtrey plays the scene exceedingly 
well. If we felt that there was any necessity for the 
child's death, or even that it had been adequately 
prepared and led up to, that flood of tears would 
be a stroke of genius. As it is, the effect is too 
cheaply and therefore too dearly bought. On 
second thoughts, I am inclined to regard it as a 

then, before urging Mr. Robertson to prolong his pauses and 
substitute for the vigorous smoothness of his delivery the spas- 
modic languor which has so long wrought havoc on our stage. 
I am, Sir, your obedient servant, 

LONDON, Sept. itf/i. 


stroke of genius all the same, however inexpertly 
delivered; but on the whole I resent more than I 
admire it. 

This resentment, as I hope Mr. Esmond will per- 
ceive, is merely the recoil of overstrained sympathy. 
It is the Nemesis attendant on a too direct and too 
successful appeal to sentiment. We cannot have our 
affections trifled with. I, for one, had become so 
attached to that foolish and delightful couple, Major 
Dick Rudyard and Maysie, that all through the 
second act I found distinct comfort in remembering 
the title of the play, One Summers Day* and clinging 
to its (alas ! fallacious) assurance that though the sun 
might go down on misunderstanding in the second 
act, happiness must rise with the moon in the third. 
Of course we all foresaw the misunderstanding from 
afar, though we could not foresee the incredible den- 
sity with which Dick allows, or rather forces, Maysie 
to glide into it. This is a fault, and a regrettable 
one. It is also a fault, I think, that Maysie should 
instantly consent to marry Phil Marsden, merely 
because she is disappointed in Dick Rudyard. It is 
only on the stage that these lightning revulsions 
happen. In real life, no sane woman would thus 
make a shuttlecock of herself, behaving as if there 
were only two men in the world and she were bound 
by law to marry one of them before the clock strikes 
* Comedy Theatre, September 15 still running. 


twelve. To a woman of sense and sound instincts, a 
loveless marriage is not such a simple matter as 
our playwrights seem to think. Women have been 
known, indeed, to marry the wrong man in order to 
spite the right one: but, in this instance, not even 
that elevated motive comes in. Maysie's instantane- 
ous acceptance of Phil is simply a stage convention. 
It might be defended as one of those mere com- 
pressions of time which are sometimes necessary on 
the stage ; but the answer is that here it is not neces- 
sary at all. There is no sufficient reason why, in the 
last act, Phil should be actually engaged to Maysie. 
It is quite enough that he should think her finally 
estranged from Dick. His hope being thus revived, 
he would still be under the temptation to foment 
instead of removing their misunderstanding, which 
forms the dramatic mainspring of the last act ; and, 
the hope being less definite, we should feel his ulti- 
mate disappointment less discordant with the tone of 
pleasant comedy which is, or ought to be, dominant 
in the play. It will be gathered from all- this that 
construction is not the strong point of One Summer's 
Day. Truth to tell, Mr. Esmond has taken an old 
and sufficiently commonplace theme, and has ex- 
pended no particular skill on the mere framework of 
his play. What renders it delightful and thoroughly 
delightful, up to the point where the author takes to 
harrowing our feelings is the kindly, original humour 


that permeates it, and especially the indefinable, irre- 
sistible lovableness of Dick Rudyard and Maysie. 
In conceiving the relation between them, and in 
writing the scenes in which it is developed, Mr. 
Esmond proves himself a true and delicate artist. 

This is Mr. Esmond's first unqualified success 
I say unqualified, for the audience apparently did not 
take "Kiddy's" death so much to heart as I did. 
Moreover, it is his most accomplished and evenly 
able piece of work. Yet it is still The Divided Way* 
tentative and ill-starred as it was, that gives one 
assurance of his future. One Summer's Day is 
excellent Albery, or, perhaps more precisely, a capital 
piece of immature Pinero. Now Albery and im- 
mature Pinero are all very well in their way, but we 
want to know if a man can go further ; and on that 
point the new comedy might leave us in doubt. 
Fortunately The Divided Way has disposed of this 
doubt in advance, and we can accept its successor 
as welcome evidence of fecundity and flexibility of 
talent. Mr. Esmond is pursuing a quite normal 
course of development, and rapidly disengaging his 
individuality. Amid all that is conventional in this 
play, and a good deal that is technically careless for 
example, the free use of the soliloquy, and even of 
that prehistoric barbarism the soliloquy overheard 
we are always conscious of the workings of an artistic, 
* Theatrical World of 1895, p. 353. 


a creative, will and temperament. The only thing 
that remains to be seen with regard to Mr. Esmond's 
talent is whether he has the capacity for acquiring 
and (so to speak) assimilating real, intimate, first- 
hand knowledge of life. Imagination he has, scenic 
instinct he has ; he has wit, humour, and at least the 
makings of a style. In a word, he has plenty of 
faculty but has he vision ? Can he put off the 
distorting spectacles of theatrical tradition, and look 
life straight in the face, catching shades and subtleties 
of expression, and fixing them in the medium of his 
art ? Has he thought, and thought competently, on 
human nature and human destinies ? And has he 
the gift of illustrating his thought by means of his 
observation ? In more general terms, has he an 
adequate criticism of life, and the power of enforcing 
it dramatically? The longer I live, the more am I 
impressed by the inexhaustible wealth of dramatic 
material in the everyday world around us. Our lot is 
cast in a fabulously auriferous region; we every day 
tread the richest " pockets " and " placers " under 
foot, if only we had the gift of divining and the 
power of working them. Every now and then there 
comes a man who has this gift and power, and we 
hail him a dramatist. He works his vein and makes 
his pile, while others flock around to sift and re-sift 
his dross and leavings. It is not yet quite clear 
whether Mr. Esmond has really struck a lode of his 


own, or is merely crushing and winnowing, with un- 
usual skill, the slag of others. It is not quite clear, 
indeed ; but remembering The Divided Way, and 
putting this and that together, we have every reason 
to hope for the best. 

Odd as it may appear, the one thing that inclines 
me to distrust my judgment of Mr. Esmond's comedy 
is the extraordinary charm of Miss Eva Moore's 
acting in it. I cannot imagine Maysie played by 
any one else ; wherefore I begin to wonder whether 
the author has created a character or only fitted 
an actress to perfection. But the dilemma the 
"whether .... or" is really gratuitous. There is 
not the slightest reason why he should not have done 
both, and that is the theory I propose to adopt. 
Mr. Hawtrey, as Major Rudyard, proved himself as 
convincing in sincerity as in mendacity, and that is 
saying a great deal. I cannot quite make up my 
mind whether Mr. Cosmo Stuart's curiously unsym- 
pathetic voice was a gain or a drawback to the 
character of Phil Marsden. It certainly chilled one's 
compassion for the luckless lover ; but perhaps it is 
as well that our sensibilities were not tortured on this 
side also. Mr. Kemble, Mrs. Charles Calvert, Mr. 
Kenneth Douglas, and Miss Lettice Fairfax were all 
good, and Miss Constance Collier, as the gipsy 
Chiara, looked imposing and played cleverly, but, as 
it seemed to me, with rather too much refinement of 


voice and accent. And now I bethink me that I 
have all this time said nothing of " the Urchin," 
marvellously acted by Master J. Bottomley, who was 
beyond a doubt the chief success of the play. He is 
an original conception, this Puck of the gutter, this 
precocious Flibbertigibbet, who flits like an imp of 
mischief through the comedy. Several of his sayings 
kindled throughout the house that "sudden glory" 
of irresistible laughter which is as rare as it is refresh- 
ing. But though, like every one else, I enjoyed the 
Urchin, it was somewhat against my better judgment. 
I felt that in this case Mr. Esmond's fantasy was 
rather too unconditioned, too remote from any 
foundation of fact. But I am ashamed of taking so 
churlish a view of the matter. The audience, more 
philosophical than I, showed no disposition to cross- 
examine the pleasure which this quaint creation 
afforded them. 

No one realises more clearly than Messrs. Cecil 
Raleigh and Henry Hamilton, authors of The White 
Heather* at Drury Lane, "the wealth of dramatic 
material in the everyday world around us." Life is 
all material to them, just as it is to the editor of an 
illustrated paper. Drury Lane, in fact, in the autumn 
season, has become a sort of "magnified and non- 
natural " Illustrated London News, the manager play- 
ing the part of editor, while the authors, rushing 
* September 16 December 15. 


around with their note-books, sketching-blocks and 
kodaks, from Throgmorton Street to Boulter's Lock, 
from Battersea Park to the bottom of the sea, are 
indistinguishable from reporters and special artists. 
And as, in the up-to-date illustrated journal, there is 
always a section headed "In Lighter Vein," "In Merry 
Mood," or what not, so the judicious editor of the 
Drury Lane Budget takes care to make his young 
men introduce " comic cuts " on every second page, 
enlivened with all the slang, topical allusions and 
wheezes of the day and of the year. Although the 
staff works strenuously to keep abreast of the times, 
an annual publication is doomed to have somewhat 
the air of a back number. I cannot but foresee in 
the near future a drama of such elastic framework 
that one or two scenes, at least, can be placed in a 
different setting from week to week or from month to 
month, according as public interest shifts from place 
to place. In The White Heather, for example, why 
should not the villain's henchman have left the 
missing marriage-certificate in the safe custody of 
his foster-brother, an Afridi chief? We could thus 
get in a realistic tableau of the siege and relief of Fort 
Gulistan, with hand-to-hand combats, first between 
the villain and the Afridi, then between the hero and 
the villain. Or the precious document might have 
been eaten by a transport-camel employed in the Nile 
Expedition, so that we could make a little detour to 


Berber on the way from Battersea to Boulter's Lock. 
Far be it from me, however, to pit my ingenuity 
against that of Messrs. Raleigh and Hamilton. I 
merely suggest the idea of an adjustable kinemato- 
graphic drama, going through a new edition every 
week the details I leave in their experienced hands. 

Meanwhile, Mr. Arthur Collins is to be congra- 
tulated on having opened his campaign with an ex- 
ceedingly amusing and spirited production of its class. 
It is entertaining in its very absurdity; without pre- 
tending to refinement, it is at no point brutal or 
offensive; and it is excellently mounted and put on 
the stage. The opening scene, "The Moor," is a 
striking and imaginative piece of scene-painting ; I am 
assured that the representation of the Stock Exchange 
is marvellously faithful; Battersea Park and Boulter's 
Lock are gay and animated tableaux; and if the 
Duchess's Ball is more sumptuous than amusing 
well, I am not without a suspicion that this too may 
be true to nature. On one point, however, the kine- 
matograph still distances its emulators its people are 
so much better made-up. A little more care in 
making scalps join and moustaches seem reasonably 
plausible would not be thrown away in these repro- 
ductions of the giddy whirl of the aristocracy. As for 
the combat of the divers at the bottom of the sea, 
with the fishes gambolling round them, it is presented 
with a great deal of ingenuity, and stirred the audi- 

" THE PURSER." 269 

ence to enthusiasm. Of the actors, Mrs. John Wood 
holds indubitably the most important position. She 
is the life and soul of the entertainment, and her part, 
a very long one, may fairly be described as a treasury 
of social philosophy adjusted to the meridian of Drury 
Lane. What a pity that Madame Sans-Gene was not 
written some twenty years ago ! Mrs. John Wood 
was born to play the part, but, unfortunately, born a 
little too early. The other comic parts are all sacri- 
ficed to Lady Janet McClintock, but Miss Pattie 
Browne and Mr. De Lange are as amusing as they 
have any chance of being. Miss Kate Rorke plays 
the heroine very pleasantly, Mr. Henry Neville is an 
emphatic and effective villain, and Mr. Dawson Mil- 
ward shows tact and sincerity in the part qf a poor 
apology for a hero. Minor characters are well played 
by Mr. J. B. Gordon, Mr. Robert Loraine, Mr. 
C. M. Lowne, and Miss Beatrice Lamb. 

There is a comic idea in Mr. John T. Day's farce 
The Purser* at the Strand Theatre, and the writing 
is not without cleverness. Unfortunately Mr. Day 
shows no power of carrying a story forward, but 
keeps the same situation afoot, without development 
or any essential change, throughout his three acts. 
Therefore our amusement, mild from the first, waned 
steadily towards the end. The farce was played with 
plenty of spirit by Miss Kate Phillips and Miss Adie 
* September 13 October 16. 


Burt, Mr. Edmund Gurney, Mr. J. G. Grahame, Mr. 
Righton, Mr. Charles Troode, and Mr. Stuart Cham- 
pion. Its scene is the deck of a P. and O. liner, very 
ingeniously and prettily staged by Mr. Hemsley. 



2?)th September. 

OF Mrs. Brown Potter's performance of Frandllon* 
I can only say, as I said of The Sign of the Cross 
on its production : this thing is outside the sphere 
of art criticism has nothing to do with it. Yet 
I gather from the advertisement-columns of the 
daily papers that some critics two at least actually 
accepted it, not only as art, but as good art. "Mrs. 
Potter can now take her place among our leading 
actresses," one of these gentlemen is represented 
as saying ; while the second is of opinion that " Mrs. 
Potter proved by her acting of ever-varying lights 
and shades how accomplished she has become in 
her art." Other oracles are quoted, but they are 
equivocal, as oracles are apt to be commenting 
upon her "eccentricity" and her fondness for "the 
unexpected." The unexpected she certainly achieves; 
* Duke of York's Theatre, September 18 November 6. 


but the acme of the unexpected to me is that any 
one should be found to praise such unexpectedness. 
One is always prepared for difference of opinion, 
within certain limits; but here the question is not 
simply between good and bad, but between art and 
its negation. Dumas's comedy is very stiffly and 
clumsily translated "moeurs" is always rendered 
"morals" ("other times, other morals"), "hommes 
d'esprit" becomes "men of spirit," and so forth. 
Yet it is not hopelessly stultified as it would 
be by "adaptation." In order to strengthen the 
part of the husband, he, instead of the Baronne 
Smith, is made to lay the trap for Francine which 
brings the action to an end; but up to that point 
the play, though much abbreviated, is not seriously 
deformed. Mr. Kyrle Bellew is well fitted for the 
part of Lucien de Riverolles, and plays it effectively; 
Mr. Beauchamp and Mr. Elwood are good as the 
Marquis and Henri de Symieux; Mr. Charles 
Thursby plays the notary's clerk with valuable 
discretion ; Miss Helen Vane makes a pleasant 
Baronne Smith; and Miss Grace Noble plays 
Annette with sincerity, simplicity, and charm. But 
oh ! the Francillon ! 




6th October. 

ONLY one item in the new Triple Bill* at the Avenue 
Theatre calls for serious notice. The other two 
may serve their purpose or they may not ; they are 
insubstantial, impalpable ; soap-bubbles without the 
iridescence. If you are a very candid and unseasoned 
playgoer, you may be amused by the late Sir Charles 
Young's duologue The Baron's Wager; if, on the 
other hand, you seem to have seen it a score of 
times already, and executed, moreover, with very 
different ingenuity and sparkle, you are, I fear, an 
impossible curmudgeon like myself. It is Scribe 
in the th dilution. In The Mermaids, again, a 
" submarine musical fantasy " by Mr. Gayer Mackay, 
the fantasy remained conscientiously submarine, and 
never for. a moment came to the surface. It is a 
common error to confound the merely grotesque 
with the fantastic Caliban with Ariel. Not that 
there was anything brutal or particularly displeasing 
in The Mermaids ; its worst fault was precisely its 
lack of fantasy, its poverty of invention, its nullity 
* October 2 15. See p. 289. 


of idea. There were some fairly clever verses in 
it, set to very obvious rhythms by Mr. Claud 
Nugent. It did not appear which of the verses 
were by Mr. Mackay and which by Mr. Charles 
Brookfield, who was stated on the playbill to have 
contributed "additional lyrics." Mr. Frank Wyatt 
contrived to be amusing as a Merman, and Miss 
Lottie Venne, as Lady Barker, made really brilliant 
use of her scanty opportunities. The "fantasy" of 
these two genuine comedians kept the piece going, 
but their task was hard and thankless. 

Remains My Lady's Orchard, by Mrs. Oscar 
Beringer, a drama of poetry and passion, blood and 
tears. If its accomplishment were equal to its 
ambition, and if it were acted with reasonable 
skill, it might redeem the programme from utter 
triviality ; but unfortunately these are very large 
"ifs." The theme is dramatic enough indeed, it 
might be described as a tragic parody-in-advance of 
Mr. Bernard Shaw's Candida. John of Courtenay, 
"a Saxon Seigneur of Romani," has a young wife, 
Azalais, and a troubadour friend, Bertrand of 
Auvergne, professionally known as "the Wild 
Nightingale." The Romani Rye is a little more 
Saxon that is to say, phlegmatic and inarticulate 
than a husband, under such conditions, .ought to 
be ; the lady is innocently, but recklessly, coquettish ; 

and the Wild Nightingale tries, in the phrase of his 



brother lyrist Burns, to play the Old Hawk. The 
Nightingale sulks and glooms and chants passionate 
dawn-songs, until "friend John" can stand it no 
longer. Scratch a Saxon and you find a Tartar; 
the husband and the lover fight in presence of the 
lady, who thinks it is all in fun ; the lover is run 
through the body, and "friend John" walks off 
with Azalais, who still believes that Bertrand is 
only keeping up the joke and pretending to be in 
the agonies of death. We here touch one main 
fault of the play the inconceivable and exasperating 
silliness of Azalais. The Nightingale must indeed 
be hard up for inspiration who can warble to such 
a goose. No Saxon husband of the twelfth century, 
I am sure, would have drawn sword in such a case. 
He would have regarded his wife as what she is 
an unbearably naughty child and applied the classic 
remedies. The stupidity of the lady reacts upon her 
husband and lover, so that the whole trio remain 
entirely uninteresting and unsympathetic. More- 
over, they all talk a terrible pseudo-archaic jargon, 
which it would be quite inadequate to describe as 
"Wardour Street." There is good Wardour-Street 
and bad Wardour-Street; and this is not good. 
Mrs. Beringer is a lady who has shown a good deal 
of dramatic talent; but she has here undertaken a 
task which demands, in addition, a very much rarer 
quality consummate literary tact. Mr. Brookfield as 


" friend John " looked, and no doubt felt, supremely 
uncomfortable like a man who hates children, 
compelled, very much against his will, to dress up 
and take part in some nursery charade. Miss 
Vera Beringer played Azalais with all the nods and 
becks and wreathed smiles traditionally supposed 
to belong to such a part, emphasising every second 
speech with a toss of her mane or a sweeping curtsey. 
This young lady has still much to learn, and to 
unlearn. Miss Esme Beringer, arrayed in chain 
armour, enacted Bertrand "the Wild Nightingale." 
Her performance did not appeal to me; but I 
confess myself incapable of taking any interest in 
a male character played by a lady, whether the 
lady's name be Beringer or Bernhardt. 



i3//z October. 

THE merest tyro in criticism can point to the tech- 
nical faults of Mr. Henry Arthur Jones's new play at 
the Criterion. They are too patent to be worth 
dwelling on for a moment, and they do not make the 
comedy a whit less agreeable. The Liars* is bright 
and interesting from first to last, and the third act 
* October 6 still running. 


is most skilfully elaborated. It is true that the hero 
is outside the action, a mere confidant and chorus, 
like the De Ryons or the Thouvenin of Dumas. It 
is true that the construction of the second act is 
audaciously haphazard, the characters dropping in 
without rhyme or reason, in the friendliest manner 
possible, just when Mr. Jones requires them. It is 
true that even the third act, though it justifies the 
title of the play, does not strictly belong to the 
subject, since all the lying merely retards, without 
affecting, the decision of the main question at issue : 
the question whether passion or worldly wisdom is 
to carry the day. It is true that no one seems to 
remark a glaring inconsistency on the very surface 
of the story ultimately told to George and Gilbert 
Nepean : if it was Dolly and not Rosamund who 
dined with Jessica at the Shepperford Hotel, how 
came it that Rosamund and not Dolly wrote to 
George Nepean on the hotel paper, and posted the 
letter at Shepperford ? * It is true that we get a 

* With reference to this remark Mr. Charles Wyndham wrote 
to me : " I must correct a serious mistake on your part. There 
is no suggestion whatever that Lady Rosamund pretended to dine 
at the hotel. Perhaps you have forgotten that in the third act it 
is expressly told that George Nepean was aware of the fact that 
Lady Rosamund had dined with Mrs. Crespin in the neighbour- 
hood." I had not forgotten this fact. It is this fact which 
forces the conspirators to abandon the lie they originally intended 
to tell the lie which Falkner ultimately does tell to wit, that 

"THE LIARS." 277 

little tired of the perpetual allusions to eating and 
drinking, and that we are but moderately interested 
in the question where Gilbert Nepean and his wife 
are going to sup and what is to be their bill of fare. 
All this is true ; and if the piece had any claims to 
rank as an enduring masterpiece, a perennial glory 
of English literature, all this would be of more or less 
importance. But the piece makes no such preten- 
sions. It is a lively, entertaining, vigorously-written 
comedy of the day, which will have its day (a long 
one I doubt not), but will scarcely go down to 

Let no one be deterred from going to see The 
Liars by the idea that it is a " problem play." It 
is nothing of the sort. In order to keep to the key 
of comedy, Mr. Jones has deliberately shirked the 
problem which might have arisen had the heroine 
been a woman with any strength of character. You 
cannot solve or even help to elucidate a problem by 
presenting a self-evident case. Mr. Jones propounds 

Lady Rosamund dined with Lady Jessica. The inconsistency, 
or oversight, or improbability, which I point out is this : when 
the original lie is abandoned, and Dolly Coke, instead of Lady 
Rosamund, is put forward as Lady Jessica's companion, it is 
apparently forgotten that Lady Rosamund, as her letter proves, 
was also at the hotel, and the circumstance is not alluded to by 
either party, until Falkner, at the very end, blurts out the whole 
story. The matter is trifling in the extreme ; but I was under 
no misapprehension as to the facts. 


a question and discusses it, with much vivacity, in 
abstract terms; but the concrete example he places 
before us does not in reality raise that question, or 
indeed any other. Here is the enunciation of what 
might have been the problem : 

SIR CHRISTOPHER (to FALKNER). Come, old boy, there's no 
need for us to take this tone. Let's talk it over calmly, as old 
friends and men of the world. 

FALKNER. Men of the world ! If there is one beast in all 
the loathsome fauna of civilisation that I hate and despise, it 
is a man of the world ! Good heaven, what men ! What a 
world ! 

SIR CHRISTOPHER. Quite so, old fellow. It is a beastly 
bad world a lying, selfish, treacherous world ! A rascally bad 
world, every way. But, bad as it is, this old world hasn't 
lived all these thousands of years without getting a little 
common-sense into its wicked old noddle especially with 
regard to its love affairs. And, speaking as an average bad 
citizen of this blackguardly old world, I want to ask you, Ned 
Falkner, what you mean by making love to a married woman, 
and what good or happiness you expect to get for yourself or 
her ? Where does it lead ? What's to be the end of it ? 

Now here is a problem, a very old problem, and 
one which has been discussed a thousand times in 
every tone and in every tongue. There is no reason 
why it should not be thrashed out again and yet 
again, with appropriate examples. But in The Liars 
the example is not in the least appropriate. There 
may be some question as to " what good or happiness 

"THE LIARS." 279 

a man can expect " if he runs away with a married 
woman who loves him ; but if the woman does not 
love him, does not even think she does, and is 
incapable of entering into a single one of his ideas, 
aspirations, or habits, it is manifest that his only 
rational course is to steer clear of her. This is 
exactly the case of Lady Jessica and Falkner. Had 
she been ever so free, it would have been rank 
lunacy on his part to marry her; much more evi- 
dently, then, is he mad to think of leading her 
through the divorce court to the altar, or casting in 
his lot with her in any way. That such infatuations 
occur we all know, and this one makes a capital 
comedy; but it has not the remotest bearing upon the 
question whether it is ever possible to defy with im- 
punity the canons and conventions of the existing 
social order. Had Mr. Jones really wanted to argue 
out this question, he would have chosen a case in 
which the passion was not all on one side, and in 
which there was at least some semblance of mutual 
fitness between the man and woman concerned. As 
it is, Sir Christopher Deering's homily in the last act, 
amusing and effective though it be, never really 
touches the point. Dramatically it is all right, for 
even in such a conjuncture politeness puts a certain 
curb upon sincerity; but logically it is all wrong, 
circling round and glozing over the essential facts of 
the case. Had Sir Christopher spoken his whole 


mind, his harangue would evidently have taken some- 
thing like this form : " I needn't enter into the 
general question whether the divorce court is ever 
the gateway to happiness. If you could point to fifty 
couples who had passed through it into Elysium, I 
should still say * Don't follow in their footsteps ! ' 
You, Lady Jessica, are the last woman in the world 
who can possibly set society at defiance. Society is 
your element ; apart from it you do not exist. You 
are a creature of frocks, frills, and furbelows. The 
interests of your life centre entirely in dress and the 
pastimes and tittle-tattle of your set. You have no 
resources, intellectual or moral. Your mind is a 
tissue of second-hand cynicisms ; you have no heart, 
and even your senses are poverty-stricken. You are 
not, cannot be, and do not want to be, anything like 
the woman Ned Falkner sees in you. He, poor 
fellow, though no longer young in years, is a boy 
in simplicity of heart and power of idealisation. His 
love is the frantic illusion of a strong and earnest 
man who has hitherto starved that side of his nature. 
Even if all outward circumstances were propitious, 
you could not for a single week live up to his con- 
ception of you. But outward circumstances are in 
fact as unpropitious as they make 'em. He is not an 
ordinary man who can be obscurely happy or un- 
happy, as the case may be. He has a high character, 
a great position. He is eager to sacrifice them for 

" THE LIARS." 28l 

the woman he thinks you ; but you know as well 
as I do that he thinks you very different from the 
woman you are. Do not imagine for a moment 
that the pain of disillusionment will be all his ; how- 
ever generous he may be in recognising that the error 
was his own, and that you had no intention of de- 
ceiving him, the misery of his situation will inevitably 
react upon you. You will chafe each other to death 
in solitude, in idleness, in ennui; or you will leave 
him, and I needn't tell you the rest. If you were 
another woman, I might (or might not) preach in 
another key. If you were capable of the love for 
which the world is well lost, I might bid you, as 
Francis Thompson puts it, ' shake off the bur o' the 
world ' with confident serenity. I might tell you that 
your present marriage your subjection to that gross 
brute of a husband, for whom you cannot feel even 
esteem or kindness was more immoral than any 
licence, more degrading than any scandal. I might 
even urge you to take Ned Falkner's hand in faith 
and hope, and let him drag you out of that slough. 
But since you do not yourself feel the degradation, 
it does not exist for you. You are bored and irritated, 
not shame-stricken ; and I cannot allow you to ruin 
my friend's life out of mere boredom. Come now 
you are a shallow but not hitherto a noxious little 
creature. In this case the responsibility rests upon 
you, for you are sane and Ned Falkner is not. You 


are not, you don't pretend to be, blinded by passion : 
show that you are capable of acting wisely and kindly 
for yourself and for him. Prove by resolutely reject- 
ing him that there is something in you, after all, of 
the woman he imagines." It is clear enough that Sir 
Christopher could not make this speech, or anything 
like it ; but this is what is in his mind, and the speech 
he does make is almost entirely beside the question. 
If Mr. Jones had wanted really to raise the problem, 
he would have chosen another object-lesson by which 
to illustrate it. But he did not want to raise the 
problem; he wanted to write a gay, insubstantial 
comedy, in which the Criterion public should find a 
pleasant relaxation after the painful tensity of The 
Physician. Therefore he chose a case which ex- 
cluded from the outset all difference of opinion ; 
since it is abundantly evident that a woman who is 
congenitally unfitted to make a man happy or to be 
happy with him, does not become better fitted by the 
mere fact of being married to another man. 

Mr. Wyndham, as an actor, has one great fault 
from the critic's point of view he is too persistently 
good. Now that he has renounced the ultra-senti- 
mental line of characters for which he at one time 
had a passing fancy, it is impossible to find anything 
but praise for him. There was a short passage near 
the beginning of the fourth act, in which I thought 
his delivery became a little monotonous and sing- 

"OH! SUSANNAH !" 283 

song ; otherwise he rendered the character to absolute 
perfection. Here is a little problem for the aspiring 
actor : a piano is heard, off the stage, there is a pause 
in the conversation, a lady asks "Is that Mrs. 
Ebernoe?" and a gentleman answers "Yes" how is 
the gentleman to convey to us in that one word 
" Yes " the fact that he is devotedly, chivalrously, 
adoringly in love with this Mrs. Ebernoe, whom, be it 
observed, we have not seen and of whom we know 
nothing? Don't ask me how it is done, but go to 
the Criterion and see Mr. Wyndham do it. This 
" Yes " certainly deserves to rank with Lord Burleigh's 
nod in point of concentrated expressiveness. Mr. 
Thalberg plays Falkner earnestly and with feeling, 
but has not quite the personality of the part ; he is 
too light a weight. Miss Mary Moore is agreeable as 
ever, but puts into the part of Lady Jessica even less 
reality of feeling than the author intended. Mr. Vane 
Tempest is excellent as Freddie Tatton, the most 
amusing character in the play ; Mr. Alfred Bishop is 
good as Coke; and Miss Sarah Brooke plays very 
cleverly the scene of Dolly Coke's disinterested men- 
dacity. Mr. Standing and Mr. Leslie Kenyon play 
the odious Brothers Nepean with valuable discretion. 
The authors of Oh! Susannah!* at the Royalty 
Theatre (Messrs. Mark Ambient, A. Atwood, and R. 
Vaun) are to be congratulated on having provided 
* October 5. Still running. 


Miss Louie Freear with a congenial part. Miss Freear 
is not merely a comic personality, but a genuine 
artist. Her Aurora is a creation in its way and ex- 
tremely amusing. She ought to make an incom- 
parable " Marchioness," if only she could find a Dick 
Swiveller of equal talent. But for Miss Freear, there 
would be nothing worthy of comment either in the 
farce or in the acting. 



October 2oth. 

THE historian of the future may possibly be able to 
assign some reason for the sadden efflorescence of the 
fairy-tale on the German stage during the past five or 
six years. Is this nursery romanticism a reaction 
from the realism of Hauptmann, Sudermann, Max 
Halbe, and the little group of playwrights which 
gathered around the Berlin "Freie Biihne"? Or 
has the phenomenon a social rather than a purely 
literary origin? Is it the lowering aspect of the 
real world under the iron rule of the drill-sergeant 
that makes people look to the theatre for the solace 
of an idyllic "dreamery," as the Germans themselves 
would call it? Be this as it may, the fact is clear 


that the Mdrchen is for the moment the popular art- 
form in Germany. Perhaps Hauptmann's Hannele 
may be taken as a sort of connecting-link between the 
realistic drama and the nursery-tale ; while his latest 
work, Die versunkene Glocke, takes us to the very 
heart of the elemental spirit-world. Fulda's plays 
The Talisman (which had a brief run at the Hay- 
market) and The Son of the Caliph are in effect 
children's stories, the one borrowed from Hans 
Andersen, the other suggested by, if not absolutely 
founded on, the Arabian Nights. Von Schonthan's 
Renaissance, that charming comedy which the com- 
pany of the Vienna Volkstheater acted at Daly's last 
summer, though it does not actually trench on the 
supernatural, is in truth nothing but a fairy-tale. The 
popularity of Hansel und Gretel is still unexhausted ; 
and here we have the author-composer of that fireside 
legend providing a musical accompaniment melo- 
drame is the technical term in Germany to a fairy- 
tale by " Ernest Rosmer " which, under the title of 
Die Kb'nigskinder^ has made the round of the German- 
speaking world with universal applause. 

In principle, I am with the Germans in their taste 
for fairy lore. I wish one or other of our own authors 
why not Mr. John Davidson? would follow their 
lead, and give us a nursery legend for big and little 
children. But I would not propose for imitation their 
treatment of their themes. It is apt to be decidedly 


heavy-handed. The Children of the King* translated 
by Mr. Carl Armbruster, " revised " by Mr. John 
Davidson, and produced last week at the Court 
Theatre, would be very charming if it did not happen, 
by ill-luck, to be decidedly tedious. The story (and 
in a work of this class the story is everything) seemed 
to me obscure, the action languid, and the moral 
imperceptible. A moral there was somewhere; of 
that there could be no doubt. There was always an 
allegoric meaning lurking round the corner, but it 
never came out into the light of day. Whether 
the fault lay with the author, with the translators, with 
the actors, or simply with my own density and slow- 
ness of spiritual apprehension, the melancholy fact 
remains that I could make neither head nor tail of 
the thing. It almost seemed as though "Ernest 
Rosmer" assumed on the part of his audience a 
previous familiarity with the story, just as the Attic 
dramatists and our pantomime librettists (thus do 
extremes meet) assume in their audiences a general 
knowledge of the legends with which they deal. If 
the German public is prepared for the incidents, and 
takes them and their inter-connections for granted, it 
may have leisure to follow out the workings of the 
moral destiny, so to speak, which seems to preside 
over the fortunes of the Prince, the Minstrel, and the 

* October 13 30. (Reproduced at twelve afternoon per- 
formances between December 4 and January I, 1898.) 


Goose Girl. An audience, on the other hand, to 
whom the incidents are quite new, is too much 
occupied in speculating (generally in vain) upon their 
why and wherefore, to have any attention to spare for 
their spiritual significance. I felt throughout, in a 
word and I don't think I was atone in the feeling 
that some key or clue was lacking, without which 
the story seemed motiveless and tantalising. The 
music, charming in itself, did not greatly enhance 
my personal pleasure, since it was ambitious enough 
to demand the undivided attention which one could 
not possibly accord to it. The German mind, it is to 
be supposed, can work at full pressure on two planes 
at once, else this system of melodrame would not be 
so popular. My faculties are otherwise constructed. 
Where words and music blend or run parallel, as in a 
song or recitative, they can be taken in by one mental 
process ; but where the actors are saying one thing 
and the orchestra another, we can follow only by dint 
of " this way and that dividing the swift mind " in 
a sense not contemplated by the poet. The " slow 
music" of sentimental drama, though a sufficiently 
inartistic device, is not open to the same objection. 
It is a mere murmur of sound, an insidious crooning, 
designed to steal almost unperceived upon the hearer's 
sense, and predispose him to tender emotion. It 
" whispers the o'erwrought heart," without laying any 
claim on the intelligence or even the attention. But 


Humperdinck's music is no such discreet susurrus. 
It is complex in suggestion and fairly elaborate in 
/ structure. We must either listen to it and lose the 
dialogue, or listen to the dialogue and do our best to 
ignore the running commentary of the orchestra. 
Frankly, I should prefer the play without the music 
and the music without the play. This only means, 
perhaps, that I am an unmusical person; but is the 
average English audience much better endowed in 
that respect? Observe, I do not despise or dislike 
the music; on the contrary, I am annoyed by the 
feeling that I should probably enjoy it keenly if my 
attention were not diverted from it by the sayings and 
doings of the actors. 

When one imperfectly comprehends the author's in- 
tention in a play, one is scarcely in a position to judge 
of the acting. Mr. Martin Harvey did not seem to 
me quite the romantic young prince the story required; 
his performance was intelligent rather than poetic. 
Miss Cissie Loftus as the Goose-Girl was graceful, 
unaffected, childlike, and acted with a sort of appeal- 
ing helplessness not inappropriate to the character. 
Mr. Dion Boucicault played the Minstrel with abun- 
dant spirit; Miss Isabel Bateman made an impressive 
Witch; Miss Hilda Spong, Miss Neilson, and Miss 
Lotta Linthicum acted with agreeable vivacity in the 
scene at the city gate; and Miss Lina Verdi was 
delightful as the Broombinder's little daughter. The 


piece is beautifully mounted, and the stage-manage- 
ment is excellent. 

" Ernest Rosmer," it would appear, is a pseudonym. 
Am I wrong in guessing that the author chose it in 
order to suggest a certain affinity to Ibsen's Rosmers- 
holm ? I seemed to catch glimpses in the last act of 
Rosmer's idea of " ennobling " humanity. In what 
way the fable illustrated this idea I do not pretend to 
divine; but the intention was tolerably evident. 

At the Vaudeville, A Night Out has given place to 
another Franco-American buffoonery, entitled Never 
Again.* It has all the sordid extravagance of its 
predecessor, with none of its ingenuity. It is a 
mechanical monstrosity, utterly ignoble in tone, which 
extorts laughter from a puerile public by sheer violence 
of horseplay. The clockwork system of stage-manage- 
ment so prevalent in America, which did something 
to mar the effect even of Secret Service, is here carried 
to a positively irritating pitch. Mr. Ferdinand Gotts- 
chalk, one of the original American company, played 
a German musician very cleverly indeed. The other 
actors scrambled through the play with remarkable 
agility and staying power. 

The programme at the Avenue f is certainly strength- 
ened by the substitution of The Lady Burglar for The 
Baron's Wager and More than Ever for My Lady's 

* October II February 5, 1898. 

t October 16. The theatre closed almost immediately. 



Orchard. There is an ingeniously fantastic idea in 
The Lady Burglar, but Messrs. Malyon and James 
have treated it very slightly and perfunctorily. It 
passed the first half-hour agreeably enough, however, 
thanks to the bright and easy humour of Miss Julie 
Ring, who plays the title-part. Arthur Matthison's 
burlesque melodrama, More than Ever, amused the 
audience exceedingly, though a good deal of it must 
have seemed rather motiveless to those who do not 
remember the particular transpontine blood-curdler 
which suggested it. The actors, indeed, scarcely 
entered into the spirit of the thing, except Mr. Brook- 
field, who was excellent as Shambles, the faithful but 
fury-haunted major-domo. Mr. H. Stephenson was 
quite colourless as Sir Crimson Fluid, Bart, a person- 
age who, in the hands of the late John Clayton, 
became a symbolic incarnation of sanguinary turpi- 
tude. Mr. Frank Wyatt, too, made little of the 
Man-Kangaroo, originally played by Mr. G. W. Anson, 
as a parody of Mr. George Conquest's then famous, 
now forgotten, Man-Monkey. The Mermaids, by Mr. 
Gayer Mackay, is still the main item in the pro- 
gramme, and seems to please the audience mightily. 

(t THE FANATIC." 29 1 



27^ October. 

FROM the comments, articulate and inarticulate, 
which reached my ear in the theatre, I gathered 
that Mr. John T. Day's four-act play, The Fanatic,* 
produced at the Strand last week, was regarded as 
a commonplace and rather stupid failure. In my 
opinion it was nothing of the sort. On the contrary, 
it showed not only intelligence, but dramatic intelli- 
gence. The idea of the play was original and 
excellent, and one could discern, through the veil 
of a very inadequate performance, several ably 
invented details. The author's inexperience was 
manifest in every scene, almost in every line. To 
make the play a good one, it would have to be 
written over again from first to last, with only here 
and there a phrase or a fragment of dialogue 
retained. The characters would have to be more 
delicately and more definitely drawn, the situations 
otherwise prepared and otherwise developed. But 
my own mental comment throughout, far from being 
contemptuous or derisive, was, "This is good 
this is ingenious this is even subtle if only the 
author knew how to handle it ! " 

Mr. Day starts from a just observation, simple 
* October 21 25. 


enough, but, to all intents and purposes, new to the 
English stage. We all know that the fanatic is not 
necessarily, or indeed normally, a hypocrite ; but 
it has been a tradition among our playwrights to 
ignore the fact Here again Puritanism has been 
the curse of our theatre, in this case from the literary 
point of view. It made itself so hated in the seven- 
teenth century that the dramatists (whether before 
or after the Civil War) did not dream of studying 
it seriously and fairly. By a summary process of 
polemical psychology, they made "zealot" synony- 
mous with " rascal " ; and the half-deliberate error, 
the superficial and narrow convention, has come 
down uncorrected to our own times. Through all 
these three centuries the Puritan class the class 
which was capable of social, moral, or spiritual 
idealism has held aloof from the theatre, and has 
left unthinking playwrights to babble over the old, 
unmeaning commonplaces of character to equally 
unthinking audiences. There has been no effective 
demand from without for the correction of these 
traditionary truisms and libels ; and for two at least 
out of the three centuries we have had no playwright 
of sufficient insight and originality to set about 
correcting them of his own motive. Now the case 
is altered. Whatever the defects and limitations of 
our present school of playwrights, they are looking 
at life for themselves, and gradually getting rid of 

" THE FANATIC." 293 

the old stereotypes of character. Following in the 
wake of fiction of Balzac, of George Eliot, of Mr. 
Meredith and Mr. Hardy they are acquiring a 
psychological competence undreamt of by even the 
most brilliant masters of the comedy of manners. 
But the hypocrite-zealot is a conception so ingrained 
in the popular mind that no one has ventured 
formally to impugn it, until Mr. Day, with the 
courage of inexperience, advanced to the attack. 
Mr. Henry Arthur Jones, indeed, had got the length 
of showing us fanatics who were sincere enough in 
their convictions ; but he has always (if I remember 
rightly) made them break down notoriously in their 
practice. Now this is not the typical, not the 
essential, aspect of the case. It throws little light 
on the real nature or secret of fanaticism to show 
a temperance orator suffering from dipsomania, or 
a social-purity zealot enthralled by a French demirep. 
Mr. Jorgan, of The Triumph of the Philistines,* is a 
direct descendant of Angelo in Measure for Measure 
(though no doubt he has "diablement change en 
route "), and neither is a typical zealot. The fanatic 
who is best worth studying is he who is sincere 
in theory, benevolent in intention, consistent in 
practice. This is the man Mr. Day has sought to 
present to us; wherefore I say that in his choice 
of subject he showed real insight and intelligence. 
* Theatrical World of 1895, p. 152. 


Nay, more, the main lines of his play are far from 
ill-conceived. He sets forth his design with amiable 
simplicity in a note on the back of the programme, 
the gist of which is as follows : 

"Your true hypocrite is a man with a very wide knowledge 
of the world indeed, and the wider his knowledge, the greater 
his success. Your fanatic, on the other hand, is essentially 
ill-informed. His outlook is narrow, and he is at bottom 
credulous and simple-minded as a child. Indeed, Credulity 
which runs in double harness with Ignorance seems to be the 
basis of fanaticism. And in the earlier portion of the play I 
contrive some amusing situations arising out of the credulity 
which is so conspicuous a feature of the zealot type. 

"The comedy scenes take place in the early days of Isaiah 
Baxter's second marriage, to a woman younger than himself, 
who does not share his ideals. But, as time elapses, and the 
play advances, the pathos of incongruous union becomes appa- 
rent. Comedy gives way to serious drama, and the strain reaches 
the breaking-point when the husband deliberately affirms that 
he would rather see his wife in her grave than she should take 
a glass of wine ordered by her doctor ! 

" Improbable as this situation may seem, I wish to place on 
record my personal assurance that it arose on two separate 
occasions in real life to my own knowledge, and medical friends 
have told me that the experience is by no means rare." 

This preface is not the work of a skilled writer, any 
more than the play is the work of a skilled dramatist. 
For one thing, Mr. Day should clearly have left his 
audience to determine whether his situations are 
"amusing"; but, as a matter of fact, the conception 


of Mr. Lincoln B. Flagg, with his non-alcoholic 
beverages which are absolutely indistinguishable from 
whisky, brandy, and sherry, is not only amusing, but 
ingenious and dramatic. The swindle is eminently 
plausible, and has the further advantage of fitting 
into the scheme of the play and becoming, potentially 
at least, a factor in the development of character. 
What more natural than that the strict teetotaller, 
betrayed into drinking the accursed thing, and even 
appearing in public more or less under the influence 
of alcohol, should become doubly embittered against 
it? So helplessly does Mr. Day work out his theme 
that I am not quite sure whether this is his intention. 
The situation at the end of the second act is a mere 
meaningless scramble. We cannot tell whether Mr. 
Baxter has found out for himself that Mr. Flagg's 
patent whisky resembles the genuine article not only 
in its taste but in its other properties ; nor is it clear 
whether this incident affects his subsequent mental 
attitude and conduct. Had this been made clear, it 
would have done more than the testimony of any 
number of doctors, quoted on the programme, to pre- 
pare us for the situation in which Baxter declares 
that he would rather see his wife dead than suffer her 
to drink a glass of wine. There is nothing incredible 
in this trait, if only it were worked up to with reason- 
able skill. As it is, Mr. Day jerks it out so crudely 
as to make it, not precisely incredible, but simply 


(along with the whole scene in which it occurs) 
unnatural and unconvincing. He has yet to learn 
that if an effect is not carefully prepared for in the 
play, no amount of preparation on the programme will 
be of any avail. 

On the whole, Mr. Day has carried out his uncon- 
ventional idea by conventional methods, in which he 
is, moreover, quite inexpert. Not one of his leading 
characters is ever real to us ; and, though this was 
partly the fault of the actors, the author was in the 
main to blame. I think he made an initial mistake 
in assuming such a disparity of age between the 
husband and wife. He was thus enabled, it is true, 
to give the Fanatic a son by a former marriage, and 
to show the young man kicking over the traces of 
parental severity; but this very obvious effect was 
dearly bought. It would have been much better to 
have made the Fanatic a man in the prime of life, and 
his wife not much his junior. We could then have 
understood (what is now a mystery to us) how she 
came to marry him, in spite of her total lack of 
sympathy with his ideas and habits. Either love 
or pecuniary interest is required to explain such a 
marriage as this; but it does not appear that Mrs. 
Baxter is very much in love with her middle-aged 
husband, while the nobility of her nature forbids us 
even to consider the alternative. Given a man of 
thirty-five and a woman not more than ten years his 


junior, there would be nothing easier than to con- 
ceive that her romantic admiration for idealism in 
general might reinforce her love, and tempt her to 
underrate the strength of her distaste for the par- 
ticular idealisms of her husband's creed. Fanaticism, 
indeed, is almost unthinkable to the person who is 
by nature disinclined to it, so that the woman, in this 
case, would have no doubt of her ability gradually to 
soften and laugh away her husband's "fads," as she 
would call them. He, on his side, the more he 
loved her, would be the more distressed, and finally 
exasperated, by her inability to place herself for a 
moment at his point of view. His bigotry would 
become at once indurated and aggressive ; he would 
find a perverse consolation in exaggerating the 
asperities of his creed; and, outward circumstances 
contributing (as in Mr. Day's play), he might easily 
be worked up to the pitch of gross inhumanity in the 
assertion of his principles. This is probably, in the 
main, the story Mr. Day designed to tell; but he 
has failed to lay down its outlines with any distinct- 

Observe that I accept without criticism Mr. Day's 
choice of the subjects on which his Fanatic is 
fanatical. In doing so I commit myself to no opinion 
on vegetarianism, teetotalism, anti-vivisectionism, or 
any other " ism." The dramatist's business is to 
study a particular habit of mind, not to discuss the 


absolute merits of any opinion or set of opinions; 
and we are bound to let him select topics on which 
he may safely assume a pretty general consensus 
among his audience. Were I to insist on quarrelling 
with Mr. Day because he does not happen to stand 
at my particular point of view, I should prove myself 
as great a fanatic as Mr. Isaiah Baxter. Perhaps at 
heart I am ; perhaps at heart we all are ; only that 
some of us happen to be fanatical with the majority, 
others with more or less insignificant minorities. 
Frankly, on almost all the points on which Mr. Day 
touches, I am, if not a fanatic myself, at least heartily 
in sympathy with the fanatics, and ashamed of myself 
for not taking active part with them. But the man 
who erects a matter of expediency into a matter 
of religion is, no doubt, logically indefensible. On 
the basis of that admission I can meet Mr. Day, and 
look at the tragi-comedy of fanaticism from his point 
of view. At the same time, I cannot but whisper in 
his ear that some of the greatest benefactors of their 
kind have been precisely the men who committed 
this logical error. The blighting fanatics are those 
whose religion is /^expediency. 

Mr. Louis Parker's play, The Vagabond King* p ro . 
duced last week at the commodious Camberwell 
Theatre, is a bright and agreeable piece of what, for 

* October 1823. Reproduced, Court Theatre, November 


want of a preciser -term, I may call Zendaism. The 
subject is possibly suggested by Daudet, but the 
manner is the manner of Anthony Hope. (Let me 
hasten to add that, beyond the mere subject, there 
is no resemblance between Mr. Parker's play and 
Daudet's Rois en Exit.) The first two acts are off- 
hand in their technique and a trifle languid, but 
the third act is a strong and ingenious piece of 
drama. In the fourth act Mr. Parker lets a question- 
able morality get the better of the spirit of irre- 
sponsible romance, in which the rest is conceived. 
With all respect for the Gospel of Work, one can 
scarcely see King Pedro and Stella " living happy for 
ever afterwards " on the two pounds a week which 
he is to earn as a fencing-master's assistant. Miss 
Bateman was excellent as the Queen Dowager, and 
Miss Lena Ashwell played her great scene in the third 
act with such sincerity and quiet power that the action 
of the play was interrupted by round on -round of 
spontaneous applause. Mr. Murray Carson had not 
quite the grace and fascination demanded by the part 
of Don Pedro ; Mr. George Grossmith, jun., showed 
real ability as the other " king in exile " ; and Mr. 
Sidney Brough and Miss Phyllis Broughton were good 
in the not very plausible characters of an adventurer 
and adventuress. 




SOME critics, I understand, when they sit down to 
write an article, always know exactly what they are 
going to say, and say it. That is hardly ever my 
experience. There are plays, indeed such plays as 
The Sign of the Cross and Never Again with regard 
to which I know exactly- what I want to say, and say 
it, in so far as it is fit for publication. But such 
plays, thank Heaven ! are not of everyday occurrence. 
Whenever my impression is not absolutely single and 
simple whenever I want to praise with reservations 
or condemn with extenuating circumstances it is 
largely a matter of chance whether the praise or the 
reservations get the upper hand; and as a rule, such 
is the ill-conditioned doom of criticism, the betting is 
rather on the reservations. Therefore, as the ultimate 
colour of an article is not quite within my control, I 
like to convey at the outset, before it has taken colour 
at all, the answer to the one essential question with 
regard to any play or performance : " Did it, or did it 
not, give you pleasure ? " In the case of Mr. Carton's 
new play at the St. James's the answer is most 
emphatically in the affirmative. The Tree of Know- 


ledge* is thoroughly interesting and entertaining. I 
did not find a dull moment or a seriously jarring 
word in it. One merit, and that no slight one, it 
possesses throughout the writing, the mere wording 
of the dialogue, is extremely skilful. Other dramatists 
may be more terse, more eloquent, or more scrupu- 
lously natural than Mr. Carton, but no one, to my 
thinking, writes more gracefully than he. Whatever 
he wants to say, he says well. It may not always be 
the profoundest, the subtlest, or the most dramatic 
thing conceivable in the situation; but it is always 
charmingly turned. Mr. Carton has this time been 
almost entirely successful in subduing his tendency to 
florid ornamentation and metaphor-hunting. Just 
enough of it is still traceable to constitute a pleasant 
individuality of manner. In a word, Mr. Carton has 
now gained thorough control of his wit and fancy. 
His literary faculty is very considerable and very 
agreeable. He knows how 7 to give his work a highly 
attractive surface-polish. 

On looking below the surface, what do we find? 
Not a great drama, certainly not a searching 
character-study, not a finely conceived situation of 
tragic intensity, not even a closely observed picture 
of manners. The Tree of Knowledge is rather a 
novel in dialogue than a well-knit drama. I say this 
merely by way of description, not of disparagement. 
* October 25 February 10, 1898. 


The novel in dialogue, if conducted, scene by scene, 
with spirit and skill, has its legitimate place on the 
stage. In this instance we have two love-stories, 
presented simultaneously, but not in any real 
sense connected with each other. Mr. Carton may 
very likely protest; in his mind, I daresay, the con- 
nection between them seems very close. But let us 
look into it for a moment. Nigil Stanyon and 
Monica Blayne (Story No. i) are silently devoted to 
each other; but Nigil thinks he can never marry 
Monica because he can never tell her that in bygone 
years he had an unfortunate love-affair with a woman 
of deplorable character. He did not deceive her, but 
she him; he wanted to marry her, but she declined, 
and ultimately left him. Whether this is a substantial 
enough obstacle to keep the lovers apart through five 
acts I do not here inquire; in any case, it is the sole 
obstacle between them. Presently (Story No. 2) the 
other woman herself appears on the scene, in the 
character of the adored wife of Nigil's bosom friend, 
Brian Hollingworth. Nigil is thus placed, no doubt, 
in a highly embarrassing position, but his relation to 
Monica is, and remains, entirely unaffected. He tells 
her in the last act what he might just as well have 
told her in the first ; and she, so far as we can under- 
stand, is as fully prepared in the first act as in the last 
to take the common-sense view of the situation. The 
two stories might quite well have been brought into 


vital contact had the author been so minded. 
Character might have been made to influence 
character, for good or ill. For example, Monica 
might have failed to realise, until she came to know 
Belle, that Nigil had indeed been more sinned against 
than sinning. At the very least, events might have 
brought to Monica's knowledge the facts which Nigil, 
of his own motive, might never have summoned 
up courage to reveal to her. The two stories, in 
short, could have been made to interact in a dozen 
different ways; but, as a matter of fact, Mr. Carton 
has chosen none of them. Monica's character and 
attitudeof mind remain absolutely the same throughout. 
Events, perhaps, render it a trifle easier for Nigil to 
make a clean breast of things to her, but the revela- 
tion is in no way forced upon him. And if Belle 
has no influence on Monica, Monica has just as little 
on Belle. The Belle-Brian story would have been 
essentially the same if Monica and Nigil had been 
at the Antipodes. The one practical result of all 
Nigil's writhing and agonising in his (doubtless 
unpleasant) predicament is the postponement by 
about twenty minutes of Belle's midnight flitting with 
Roupell. The play, then, has no dramatic unity or 
coherence. It presents two distinct stories, con- 
tiguous, but in no sense interdependent. In the first 
of these stories that on which our sympathetic interest 
is concentrated there is no progress, no development. 


It contains matter for one act, not for five. The second 
story provides the real substance of the play, and 
lengthens it out by interrupting, without in any way 
influencing, the first story. Such a juxtaposition of 
two actions which barely touch each other is all very 
well in a novel, but sins against a fundamental canon 
of drama. The fact that, in spite of the canon, Mr. 
Carton has produced an attractive and even absorbing 
play, proves that, if a dramatist possesses a reasonable 
amount of scenic skill, he may (within limits) sub- 
ordinate his main scheme to his details, and trust 
rather to the immediate interest of each individual 
scene, than to the general effect of the whole design. 
He may, to adapt the proverb, take care of the 
minutes, and let the hours take care of themselves. 
He may but it is at his peril. 

And now let us note that in the very fact of its 
resemblance to a novel this play brings home to us 
the radical difference between the arts of the novelist 
and of the dramatist. If The Tree of Knowledge were 
indeed a novel, it would be a poor and commonplace 
one. The characters are purely conventional. They 
may be simply and exhaustively classified as absolutely 
good and irredeemably bad, in the proportion of six 
to two. There is no theme, no idea in the play. 
We never touch for a moment upon that debatable 
land of conduct, that spacious realm of casuistry, in 
which resides the moral, as opposed to the merely 


spectacular, interest of life. The two villains, for 
example Belle and Roupell are simply noxious 
creatures, patently anti-social, the concentrated 
essence of the heartless adventuress and the cynical 
scoundrel. There is not a thought to be wasted on 
them, not a word to be said for them. We are vouch- 
safed no glimpse of either their social or their natural 
history. We have simply to take them for granted, 
as the mediaeval public took for granted the Satan of 
the Mysteries, with his horns and tail. And the 
goodness of the good people is equally unconditioned. 
Nigil acts foolishly, sentimentally, even brutally, but 
he is intended to carry our unmixed sympathy 
throughout. His threat to kill Belle is not, in Mr. 
Carton's mind, a trait of folly, but of heroism. The 
character and the situation are alike unreal. Men 
have killed women for many reasons, but where in 
the criminal annals of England is the record of the 
man who, out of pure, disinterested friendship, killed 
his friend's wife in order to prevent her from eloping 
with another man? Mr. Carton had probably in 
mind vague reminiscences of French drama of the 
pistol-shot in Le Manage d'Olympe^ and the sanguin- 
ary doctrines exemplified by Dumas in La Femme de 
Claude and 1} Affaire Clemenceau. But the murderer 
in Augier's play conceived himself to be performing a 
social duty as the head of an ancient house threatened 
with irretrievable degradation; while the "Tue-la!" 



of Dumas merely gave a certain extension to a right 
already placed by French law, custom, and social 
sentiment in the hands of an injured husband not a 
casual friend. NigiPs threat, in fact, is a melodramatic 
absurdity which, if carried out, would have made bad 
worse for Brian, and involved himself and all who 
loved him in hopeless misery. True, he does not 
carry it out, but that is nothing to the purpose. If 
"he is merely vapouring, his position is contemptible. 
But it is evident that he is not merely vapouring ; his 
intention is perfectly genuine, and we are supposed 
to sympathise with it. The incident, I repeat, and 
the character from which it springs, are conventional 
and unrealised. Monica, again, is absolute goodness, 
just as Belle is absolute turpitude. The title of the 
play seems to portend a certain struggle in her mind, 
a more or less painful development, in the realisation 
that life is not all buttermilk and roses. One expects 
her to have some difficulty in swallowing that wedge 
of the apple of knowledge which her lover hands on 
to her in the story of his past. But not a bit of it ! 
In her demure way, she is evidently prepared from 
the first for something of the sort. Her wisdom is 
throughout as perfect as her sweetness. In other 
words, she is a product of rather shallow idealism, a 
vision, not a study. Far be it from me to maintain, 
with the late John Gabriel Borkman, that the Perfect 
Woman nowhere exists. What I mean is, that in this 


play Mr. Carton has not really studied her, but has 
simply (like Foldal) drawn on his own idealistic 
imagination, and made a direct appeal to ours. 

These characters, then, would make but a fifth- or 
sixth-rate novel how comes it that they make, if not 
a first-rate play, at all events one which stands high 
in the second class? Some will reply, " Because the 
standard of playwriting is so much lower than that of 
novel-writing." But this is not the true answer to the 
conundrum. Playwriting here is the point is so 
much more difficult than novel-writing that matter 
which in the looser form would be practically worth- 
less, may attain real artistic value when cast in the 
stricter form. There is ten times the thought, talent, 
and skill in Mr. Carton's play that would go to the 
making of a novel out of the same material. Com- 
pression generates power, and even these characters, 
deficient though they be in true vitality, are drawn 
with a crispness and brilliancy of touch that make 
them telling enough during their little span of life 
upon the stage. Monica is a delightful conception, 
full of humour and freshness ; Nigil is a good fellow 
in his way, in spite of his determination to be a hero 
at all hazards ; Mrs. Stanyon is amiable and amusing ; 
the Hollingworths, father and son, are pleasantly 
sketched; there is a superficial air of novelty about 
the wickedness of Belle and Roupell that makes them 
highly entertaining ; Major Blencoe is an agreeable 


eccentric ; and as for Mr. Sweadle and his daughter, 
they are real creations, as good as the old housekeeper 
in Mr. Carton's White Elephant. In brief, there is 
every sort of ability in The Tree of Knoiv ledge, except 
an eye for complexities of character, a sense for 
ethical half-shades, and a penetrating criticism of life. 
It contains enough wit, humour, technical 1 accom- 
plishment, and literary power to furnish forth a dozen 
commonplace novelists. 

It was unusually well acted all round. Mr. 
Alexander, as Nigil, manly, forcible, sympathetic ; 
Mr. H. B. Irving, as Roupell, original, incisive, 
subtle; Mr. Esmond highly entertaining as the 
Major; Mr. Vernon and Mr. Fred Terry quite 
satisfactory as the two Hollingworths ; and Mr. 
George Shelton exceedingly clever as the egregious 
Sweadle. Miss Julia Neilson made a really memor- 
able figure of the baleful Belle; Miss Carlotta 
Addison was perfect as Nigil's devoted mother; 
and Miss Fay Davis played Monica so charmingly 
that I should not wonder if this particular type of 
quaintly self-possessed and humorously tender heroine 
became, for some seasons, a stereotype, and no 
comedy were reckoned complete without a Fay 
Davis character. 




November iQth. 

IT is a pleasure a pleasure too long delayed to 
have nothing but " high commendation, true applause, 
and love " for a play by Mr. J. M. Barrie. His 
comedy founded on, and entitled, The Little Minister* 
is in no sense a great, nor even in every sense a 
good, play; but it is amiable, original, sincere, and 
thoroughly entertaining. Mr. Barrie is indubitably 
a man of genius, a man whom it would be the 
grossest injustice to confound with the imitators who 
have vulgarised his method. In this play some 
savour of his genius, as distinct from the commoner 
part of his talent, gets across the footlights. We feel 
ourselves in contact with a perceptive faculty, narrow 
perhaps, but, within its limits, intense, an extra- 
ordinary gift of sympathetic humour, and somewhat 
to our surprise a real adroitness of dramatic inven- 
tion. The first two acts are a trifle sketchy. Those 
who do not know the book can form but a faint 
conception of the characters of Gavin and Babbie. 
* November 6 still running. 


I cannot help thinking that a single more or less 
serious scene between them in the second act would 
be greatly to the advantage of the play. It would 
make them both a little more real to us, and enhance 
the sympathy with which we follow their fortunes in 
the third act. This third act, and the fourth, are 
ingenious and entirely delightful scenes of pure 
comedy. The audience enjoyed them hugely, and 
no one more than I. They assured the success, and 
doubtless the lasting success, of the play. Oddly 
enough, the two leading parts were not the most 
fortunately treated. Mr. Cyril Maude has a difficult 
task in the Rev. Gavin Dishart, because nine-tenths 
of his character are left behind in the book and have 
to be taken on trust. Mr. Maude did his best under 
the circumstances, but was never quite convincing. 
Miss Winifred Emery was a charming but scarcely 
an ideal Babbie. Some of her effects were a little 
too obvious. The Auld Licht elders were admirably 
played by Mr. Brandon Thomas, Mr. Mark King- 
home, and Mr. F. H. Tyler; Mr. Sydney Valentine 
made a forcible and picturesque Rob Dow; Miss 
Sydney Fairbrother played with spirit and grace as 
his son, Micah; and Mrs. E. H. Brooke was perfect 
as Nannie Webster, her Scotch being especially rich 
and racy. The Scotch is surprisingly good all round, 
except in the case of Mr. Holman Clark (one of the 
Elders), who ought to take lessons from Mrs. Brooke. 


Is it possible that there was any real competition 
in America between the two sketches of life in China- 
town which were last week bidding against each other 
for the favour of London ? On the question of 
precedency I have no information, nor do I know 
which of them stands in the closer relation to the 
story or group of stories on which they are both 
founded. All I know is that one of them, The Cat 
and the Cherub* by Chester Bailey Fernald (at the 
Lyric), is amusing, touching, and in its way artistic; 
while the other, The First-Born^ by Francis Powers 
(at the Globe), is crude, undramatic, and tedious. 
In The Cat and the Cherub an interesting story is 
clearly and rapidly told, the incidental illustrations 
of Chinese manners and habits of thought being not 
unskilfully embroidered on the action. A constructed 
play, in our Western sense of the word, it is not, 
but rather a tragic incident, which, for my part, I 
found curiously impressive in its very simplicity. I 
shall not soon forget the " learned Doctor," Wing 
Shee, impassive and dignified as ever, seeking out 
and slaying the murderer of his son, while we hear 
the voice of the mad girl, within doors, wailing from 
time to time the name of her murdered lover. The 
"learned Doctor" is from first to last a delightful 

* October 30 November 27. Reproduced at Royalty (before 
Oh ! Susannah!), December 4 still running, 
t November I 6. 


and memorable character, and, in executing his 
vendetta, he makes murder such a fine art that the 
horror of the scene is lost in the sense of intellectual 
superiority with which it impresses us. The effect 
may leave something to be desired in point of 
morality, but in point of art it is original and fine. 
In The First-Born the "learned Doctor" becomes 
a subsidiary and uninteresting personage, though he 
has one delightful speech, to a compatriot newly 
arrived in San Francisco: "The vice of curiosity 
compels me to ask from what province you come." 
In this play the person originally killed is not the 
child's would-be rescuer, but the child himself. The 
method of his death is obscure, but the body is 
displayed on the stage; and even in Chinese drama 
I object to the massacre of innocents, unless the 
artistic design absolutely requires it. In this case it 
manifestly does not, since in the other and much 
more effective version of the same story not a hair 
of the child's pig -tail is harmed. Then, at the 
beginning of the second act or scene, the story is 
absolutely discontinued for some time, while more or 
less uninteresting episodes of street-life in Chinatown 
are presented. About five minutes before the end, 
the story is taken up again, and the concluding 
incident is the same as in the other play the 
murderer propping up his victim's body so as to 
make him pass for a living man, while the Caucasian 


policeman (the "street god") saunters past unsuspect- 
ing. The incident is the same, indeed, in both plays; 
but in The Cat and the Cherub it is most skilfully 
managed, in . The First-Born clumsily and ineffectively. 
Another curiously inartistic feature of the latter play 
is the mixture of languages. We have passages of 
Chinese, then passages of broad, unadulterated Ameri- 
can (supposed to be spoken by Chinamen and China- 
women), and then again low-comedy scenes in the 
pidgin-English used by Celestials in communicating 
with "foreign devils." The real Chinese and, the 
pidgin- English, far from heightening the illusion, 
utterly ruin it. How much more rational the conven- 
tion adopted in The Cat and the Cherub, in which the 
characters (who are all Chinese with the exception of 
the silent "street god") are throughout made to trans- 
late their thoughts, as it were, into pure, though of 
course quaintly formal, English ! Mr. Holbrook Blinn, 
at the Lyric, is excellent as the Learned Doctor; Mr. 
Richard Ganthony is grim and effective as the villain, 
Chim Fang; and the heroine, Ah Yoi, and the 
Cherub's nurse, Hwah Kwee, are cleverly played by 
Miss Ruth Benson and Miss Alethea Luce respec- 
tively. The Globe performance was altogether 
rougher and more melodramatic, but I fancy there 
was merit in the acting of Miss May Buckley and 
Mr. Francis Powers. 

Mr. Beerbohm Tree, in reproducing the Grundy- 


Dumas Silver Key at Her Majesty's, has eked it out 
with Garrick's Katherine and Petruchio* or, in other 
words, a compressed version of the purely farcical 
scenes in The Taming of the Shrew. It is marvellous 
to me that two such artists as Mr. and Mrs. Tree 
should find any satisfaction in scrambling through 
this archaic tomfoolery, rendered tolerable only by 
what is here suppressed the graceful and even 
poetical setting in which Shakespeare contrived to 
enchase it. But their taste seemed to coincide with 
that of the audience, who were highly amused. Mrs. 
Tree looked charming as Katherine, and played the 
part very brightly, while Mr. Tree did not fail to 
put vigour and movement into Petruchio. 

From Camberwell, The Vagabond King\ has been 
transferred to Chelsea, and was last Thursday 
received with much favour at the Court Theatre. 
Though the performance was in some respects im- 
proved, my first impression of the play remained 
unaltered the idea is excellent, but the execution 
is not quite successful except at one point, the third 
act This act is remarkably strong and interesting: 
in the rest of the play Mr. Parker gives too much 
licence to his fantasy, and sacrifices plausibility to 
crude and immediate effect. Mr. Herbert Ross 
makes King Pandolfo of Sardinia a little less 
grotesque than he was in the hands of Mr. Grossmith, 
* November I 26. See p. 226. t See p. 298. 


junior, and somewhat heightens the effect of his one 
strong scene in the third act. Miss Ellis Jeffreys 
takes the Princess Zea a good deal more seriously 
than did Miss Phyllis Broughton. Mr. Murray 
Carson and Miss Bateman throw themselves heart 
and soul into the characters of King Pedro and his 
terrible mother; Mr. Sydney Brough is amusing as 
the Chevalier Moffat; and Miss Lena Ashwell, as 
Stella, repeats the striking success she made on the 
first night. 

In the performance of The Tempest by the Eliza- 
bethan Stage Society at the Mansion House,* there 
was diligence, enthusiasm, even talent everything, 
in fact, except common sense. This quality one has 
long ceased to hope for in the otherwise meritorious 
efforts of Mr. Poel and his comrades. Whatever 
the ancient Elizabethans obviously did not do what- 
ever contradicts the text and flies in the face of 
reason that the modern Elizabethans conscien- 
tiously set themselves to achieve. Their choice of 
a play is this time beyond criticism. Nothing could 
have been more curious than an endeavour to realise 
the original presentment of The Tempest. But what 
is the first thing our Elizabethans do? They choose 
a side gallery or balcony, cut in the very cornice of 
the lofty hall, to represent the ship at sea, and they 
make Miranda watch the wreck from the stage, some 
* November 5. 


thirty or forty feet below ! Now if Shakespeare 
intended Miranda to be visible during the shipwreck, 
he would clearly place her on the raised platform at 
the back of the scene, looking down, as though from 
some headland, upon the main stage, which would 
represent the deck of the ship. It seems to me more 
probable, however, that Shakespeare intended both 
the lower and the upper stage to be used as parts 
of the ship, representing the main deck and some 
poop or fo'c's'le. The boatswain and mariners would 
appear aloft, the passengers below, and they would 
hail each other at some distance through the howling 
of the storm. This is simply my own conjecture, 
which must be taken for what it is worth. All we 
can say with absolute assurance is that Shakespeare 
did not picture Miranda gazing skywards, as though 
at Tennyson's vision of "navies grappling in the 
central blue." He depicts a shipwreck, not a balloon 
catastrophe. Then Prospero and Miranda appear, 
both speaking with a slow and plaintive drawl which 
is precisely the reverse of what must have been the 
method of elocution on the Shakespearian stage : 
crisp in attack, rapid, sonorous, and compelling 
attention. Prospero breaks his long speech some 
half-dozen times by saying to Miranda, "Dost thou 
hear?" or "Thou attend'st not," evidently implying 
that Miranda is so placed that she can turn away 
her head from him. Therefore, in the E.S.S. arrange- 


ment, she is made to stand directly opposite him, 
her eyes riveted upon him, and obviously intent on 
every syllable he utters. At the end of the narration 
Shakespeare makes Prospero say "Now I arise"; but 
Mr. Poel, disdaining the old superstition about suit- 
ing the action to the word, has had him on his feet 
for several minutes, and pacing about the stage. It 
was in the first apparition of Ariel, however, that the 
Society achieved its triumph of wrongheadedness. 
The dress (from a contemporary print) was plausible 
enough; but imagine a curate -Ariel mechanically 
intoning his rote-learnt lines, with his eyes fixed on 
the ceiling, motionless, expressionless, like one in a 
dream ! Was ever perversity more elaborately destruc- 
tive ! The other incarnations of Ariel, the Sea-Nymph 
and the Harpy, were played by different performers 
a most unsatisfactory device. It is not quite clear, of 
course, how the character was treated in Shakespeare's 
day, but the probable, or at any rate the safe, thing 
would be to assign it to a clever and well-grown boy r 
and let him simply change his costumes. It would 
be tedious to go through the play and enumerate the 
absurdities of grouping, stage - arrangement, and 
" business." The upper stage was never brought 
into use at all, though it stood there ready, and 
though the stage -direction in the folio (Act III.,. 
Sc. 3) says expressly : Prospero on the top (invisible], 
The "shapes" were well habited, but their action 


was slow and spiritless; the music, under the direc- 
tion of Mr. Dolmetsch, and with Miss Louise 
Macpherson as vocalist, was delightfully rendered, 
but no attempt was made to suggest its supernatural 
origin. The actors spoke the text with tolerable 
accuracy, but with no feeling for the metrical quality 
of the elusively exquisite verse. Of individual 
performers the best were Mr. A. Broughton as 
Stephano, and Mr. Hodges as Caliban, effectively 
got-up after the fashion of the Bayreuth Alberich or 
Mime. Mr. E. Playford was good as the Boatswain, 
and Miss Hilda Swan made a very graceful Miranda. 




MR. HERMANN VEZIN has struck quite a new vein as 
a Shakespearian reciter. Nothing could have been 
better than his rendering of Hamlet* at Steinway Hall 
on Thursday last. The only fault was a slight un- 
certainty of memory (for Mr. Vezin used no book) 
in the minor parts. Otherwise the recital was a model 
of taste and skill. There was no ranting, no mouth- 
ing, no grotesque mimicking of the different char- 

* Mr. Vezin also read // Casar, Othello, The Merchant 
of Venice, and Macbeth. 


acters. Mr. Vezin realised the limits of the effect to 
be aimed at, and the result was that he never missed 
it. His gestures and attitudes were graceful without 
a touch of pose ; his voice resonant and finely modu- 
lated ; his English perfect in its purity and refinement; 
and his sensitive features expressive without grimace. 
It is a pleasure to see anything done with such easy 


November 2<\th. 

FOR one reason or another, the managers are giving 
us a holiday. There has been no production or 
revival for more than a fortnight. This means, I take 
it, that the season is a prosperous one ; most of our 
leading theatres are in possession of successes which 
will carry them to Christmas or beyond it. On the 
other hand, an unusual number of theatres are closed 
a circumstance, no doubt, which partly results from, 
partly contributes to, the prosperity of the others. 

I take advantage of this lull to say a few words as 
to Admiral Guinea^ to be produced next week by the 
New Century Theatre. Its dramatic, or at any rate 
its theatrical, merit remains to be proved, and I am 
far too superstitious to venture any forecast on that 


point. As one of the committee of the New Century 
Theatre, and as a warm admirer even, if I may say 
so, a friend of both the authors, I naturally wish the 
play to succeed. Far be it from me, then, to chal- 
lenge Nemesis by one over-confident word. Wreaths 
and "floral offerings" prepared in advance are the 
unerring harbingers of failure. When I see the act- 
ing-manager handing them to the attendants, and the 
attendants passing them on to the leader of the 
orchestra, I always think of the flowers on a coffin, 
and know that the play or performance is, to use an 
obsolete but expressive vulgarism, " corpsed." I am 
twining no wreath, then, for Admiral Guinea as an 
acting play. Its fate is on the knees of the gods. 
But it is assuredly not one of the plays which exist 
for the stage or not at all. Its place in literature is in 
no way dependent on the event of Monday next. It 
seems to me, however, that the very fact of its 
dramatic form has in some measure blinded us to its 
literary qualities. We are so unaccustomed to look for 
style in modern drama that we do not recognise it 
when we see it. What I would here suggest is that 
this play, written by our master of romance in col- 
laboration with a poet, who happened to be at the 
same time an adept in the literature of picturesque 
scoundrelism, may claim no insignificant place among 
Stevenson's works, but rather shows one side of his 
talent at its very best. 


Who does not remember the blind beggar Pew in 
Treasure Island'} Who does not, at the mention of 
his name, think at once of the tap-tapping of his stick 
on the frozen road, while Jim Hawkins and his 
mother are sifting the guineas from the doubloons in 
the buccaneer's chest? No other figure in latter- 
day romance (figure, be it noted, as distinct from 
character) has so vividly impressed itself on the 
popular imagination. Readers of Treasure Island 
may more easily forget Long John Silver himself. 
We must go back to Dickens to find a personage pro- 
jected in such lurid relief as David Pew. And yet 
here we have the extraordinary art of the thing Pew 
appears and is gone like a flash of lightning He is 
scarcely drawn at all, but only suggested. In nine 
short pages he is out of the saga ; the words he 
utters (I have counted them) would just about fill 
this page. With touches incredibly few and in- 
fallibly just, Stevenson has etched this arch-mis- 
creant upon the reader's memory, and made him 
seem no less familiar than terrible. But the fact 
remains that he is only a rapid outline. There was 
not room between the covers of a single book for the 
full development of two such scoundrels as Long 
John and Pew, and the lines of the story demanded 
that Long John should hold the field. Stevenson, 
however, knew all about Pew fifty times more than 

he could tell in Treasure Island. He could draw 



him in outline because he saw him in detail ; and it 
would have been a thousand pities to let the detail 
perish unrecorded. Accordingly, he took counsel 
with Mr. Henley, like himself an ardent amateur of 
maritime tradition and romance ; and between them 
they invented a fable in which Pew should have 
ample room to develop his genius and display the 
engaging qualities of his head and heart. In Admiral 
Guinea, then, we can study at our leisure the figure 
which, seen by a lightning-flash in Treasure Island, 
had haunted us ever since. 

And he surpasses our fondest expectation. Losing 
nothing in grimness, he gains enormously in variety, 
ingenuity, humour, and resourceful audacity. He 
touches the sublime of scoundrelism. Fearless and 
ruthless, he taps his way through the world with such 
keenness of instinct and readiness of wit that we 
admire as much as we detest him. He is one of 
those creatures of intense vitality who put to shame 
our moral commonplaces. For he is a happy man, if 
ever there was one. His needs are few, his sensi- 
bilities none. Rum is his nectar and nepenthe 
("Ah, rum ! That's my sheet anchor, ma'am; rum 
and the blessed Gospel ; " and again, to himself 
" Rum ! ah, rum, you're a lovely creature ; they 
haven't never done you justice ") ; and he keeps 
himself amply supplied with the "lovely creature" 
by the constant exercise of the overbearing cruelty 


and cynical hypocrisy which are his heart's delight. 
He revels in his cleverness ; he chuckles over it with 
an unholy glee. He has all the self-complacency of 
the man whom Destiny has cruelly mishandled, but 
who, in virtue of his inborn greatness of spirit, sets 
Destiny at defiance. 

' ' Though fallen on evil days, 
On evil days though fallen, and evil tongues,* 
In darkness, and with dangers compassed round, 
And solitude " 

yet he neither repines, despairs, nor seeks to pro- 
pitiate the hostile powers, but ever and in all ex- 
tremities proves himself " the master of his fate, the 
captain of his soul." Only once does he show a 
trace of fear when, in the last act, he finds himself 
in a situation which baffles his intelligence, which his 
mind's eye cannot penetrate, and which therefore 
strikes him as mysterious, supernatural, and ghastly, 
"the horrors come alive." Danger known and 
understood never gives him a moment's pause ; and 
though he clings to life, as to a hostelry where the 
rum is to his taste, yet he has no real dread of death. 
Who is the Happy Warrior if this be not he ? To 
have no fear, no conscience, no compassion, and an 

* MRS. DRAKE. Well, sailor, people talk, you know. 

PEW. I know, ma'am ; I'd have been rolling in my coach 
if they'd have held their tongues. Act II. , Sc. i. 


ever-welling spring of animal spirits this is to be 
impregnably bastioned against all the assaults of 

Here, then, we have one of the heroic scoundrels of 
literature, an English and a nautical Macaire Yet 
the general impression made by the little play is not 
cynical, not even painful, so delightfully are the other 
characters touched in. The story is of no particular 
account, save for one highly ingenious situation in the 
last act, the theatrical effect of which has yet to be 
gauged. There is just enough plot, or rather incident, 
to bring the characters into vigorous action and con- 
trast. Captain Gaunt, the ex-slaver, now, as Pew 
phrases it, " bearing away for the New Jerusalem," 
is as vivid as Pew himself a type of self-torturing 
other-worldliness, opposed to a type of light-hearted 
ruffianly paganism. He is suggested by Cowper's 
John Newton, and is a masterly study of the bitter 
fanaticism begotten of remorse. His eloquence is 
nothing less than superb. It has all the full-blooded 
alertness of Stevenson's style, with an added some- 
thing one is tempted to call it Miltonic in which 
we may trace, not doubtfully, the touch of the singer 
of London Voluntaries. How admirable, for instance, 
is the phrasing of this retort upon Kit French ! 

"You speak of me? In the true balances we both weigh 
nothing. But two things I know: the depth of iniquity, how 
foul it is; and the agony with which a man repents. Not until 


seven devils were cast out of me did I awake; each rent me as 
it passed. Ay, that was repentance. Christopher, Christopher, 
you have sailed before the wind since first you weighed your 
anchor, and now you think to sail upon a bowline? You do 
not know your ship, young man; you will go to le'ward like a 
sheet of paper; I tell you so that know I tell you so that 
have tried, and failed, and wrestled in the sweat of prayer, and 
at last, at last, have tasted grace. " 

And again : 

" Heaven forbid that I should be hard, Christopher. It is 
not I, it is God's law that is of iron. Think ! if the blow were 
to fall now, some cord to snap within you, some enemy to plunge 
a knife into your heart ; this room, with its poor taper light, to 
vanish; this world to disappear like a drowning man into the 
great ocean ; and you, your brain still whirling, to be snatched 
into the presence of the eternal Judge : Christopher French, what 
answer would you make ? For these gifts wasted, for this rich 
mercy scorned, for these high-handed bravings of your better 
angel what have you to say?" 

It is a pleasure to copy from the printed page such 
English as this : simple, Saxon, characteristic, even to 
its nautical technicalities, yet so exquisite in its poise 
and cadence that if a word were altered or displaced 
one would feel it with a shock : a prose no more to 
be tampered with than the most delicate verse. Kit 
French and Arethusa, again, are in essence the con- 
ventional hero and heroine of nautical drama, trans- 
figured, however, by the sheer vitality and beauty of 
their diction. Never a phrase is strained or unnatural, 


yet never a phrase is common. Take, for example, 
Kit's outburst in the second act: 

"Prayers? Now I tell you freely, Captain Gaunt, I don't 
value your prayers. Deeds are what I ask; kind deeds and 
words that's the true-blue piety, to hope the best, and do the 
best, and speak the kindest. As for you, you insult me to my 
face; and then you'll pray for me? What's that? Insult 
behind my back is what I call it ! No, sir ; you're out of the 
course ; you're no good man to my view, be you who you may. 
. . . You spoke just now of a devil; well, I'll tell you the devil 
you have ; the devil of judging others. And, as for me, I'll get 
as drunk as Bacchus." 

Or listen to Arethusa's soliloquy after Kit has been 
dismissed by her father : 

" I thought the time dragged long and weary when I knew 
that Kit was homeward bound, all the white sails a-blow- 
ing out towards Englhnd, and my Kit's face turned this 
way! . . . Ah, there is no parting but the grave! And Kit 
and I both live and both love each other; and here am I cast 
down ? O Arethusa, shame ! And your love home from the 
deep seas, and loving you still; and the sun shining and the 
world all full of hope ? O Hope, you're a good word ! " 

If any one still imagines that it is impossible to 
combine naturalness with distinction in prose dia- 
logue, Admiral Guinea will quickly convince him of 
his error. 

Sticklers for the literal veracity of Treasure Island 
inquire how it comes to pass that after being trampled 
to death by Supervisor Dance's horse in Chapter V. 

"A MAN'S SHADOW." 327 

of that history, Pew should, in Admiral Guinea^ meet 
with a second and somewhat less inglorious death. 
This ambiguity troubles me not a jot. Jim Hawkins 
says nothing about his burial, and until you had seen 
such a man safely battened under hatches, you could 
never feel secure from the tap-tapping of his stick. 
It is not to be conceived that a mere horse's hoofs 
should trample the life out of David Pew ; a steam- 
roller might pass over him and he would come up 
smiling. One has scant faith even in the quietus 
given him by Kit French's cutlass but "oh, for the 
touch of the vanished hand " that could have resus- 
citated him ! 



\st December. 

IN regard to the managers, we critics occupy the 
position, vaunted by Lucretius, of onlookers standing 
at their ease on dry land, and watching storm-tossed 
vessels labouring within sound of the breakers on a 
lee shore. A particularly " gurly sea," as the ballad 
has it, and reef-strewn and treacherous withal, is the 
West-End theatrical world. Many must be the 
anxious hours of the skipper who embarks upon it. 
Night by night, in tempestuous seasons, he must 


look ahead with haggard eyes, and listen with strain- 
ing ears for the voice of his mate (the acting-manager) 
heaving the lead in shoaling waters of Popularity, 
and reporting the "returns." Meanwhile we, high 
and dry in irresponsible safety, shout down to him 
confident and for the most part contradictory advice, 
one bidding him spread all canvas and scud before 
the gale, another reproaching him with cowardice 
or incapacity because he cannot sail right in the 
teeth of the wind, a third bidding him lay an ideal 
course and stick to it, even if it lead straight to 
wreck and ruin. The metaphor may indeed be 
carried too far. It can scarcely be pretended that 
all our managers are masters of the art of theatrical 
navigation, or that they always take the very best 
advantage of wind and tide. But no doubt they 
are more fully alive to the complexities of their 
position than we can possibly be, and it must now 
and then try their tempers to find themselves bitterly 
reproached for pursuing a course which is (or at 
least which they believe to be) imposed on them 
by dire necessity. 

It is certainly not exhilarating to see the finest 
playhouse in London, under the direction of one 
of the ablest and most energetic of actor-managers, 
given up, even temporarily, to such work as A Man's 
Shadoiv (Roger La Honte)* A third-rate French 
* November 27 January 15, 1898. 

"A MAN'S SHADOW." 329 

melodrama, such as no Parisian theatre of the 
smallest literary pretensions would dream of offering 
to its public, this play would be quite in place at 
the Adelphi, the Princess's, or the Pavilion. There 
is no harm in it, and it even shows a certain 
mechanical cleverness ; but it is devoid of that vein 
of genuine humanity which places such a piece as 
Two Little Vagabonds (Les Deux Gosses} in a 
distinctly higher class. It is sad, I say, that Mr. 
Beerbohm Tree should have to condescend upon 
such work, even as a stop-gap; but I say" it in a 
tone of condolence, not of reproach. It can be no 
pleasure to him, personally, to play this very inferior 
Dubosc and Lesurques, nor, I am . sure, can Mrs. 
Tree find any scope for her intelligence or her 
executive powers in such a conventional nonentity 
as Henriette Laroque. But from the clamorously 
cordial reception of the play on Saturday evening, 
I cannot but conclude that as a piece of managerial 
policy the revival will amply justify itself. The pit 
and gallery loved it, and nowadays, as we see on 
all hands, the stalls half-cynically, half-obsequiously, 
take their cue from the pit. The acting, too, is good 
in its way. Mr. Tree's performance has the fault which 
seems inevitable in all "dual" impersonations he 
makes his Laroque and Luversan (like Sir Henry 
Irving's Lesurques and Dubosc) so utterly dissimilar 
that no one could for a moment mistake the one 


for the other. They are as different as Dr. Jekyll 
and Mr. Hyde. When Julie, three minutes after 
Laroque-Jekyll has left the stage, looks up from her 
writing and unhesitatingly addresses Luversan-Hyde 
as "Lucien," our powers of make-believe are strained 
to the snapping-point. Luversan, however, is an 
admirable piece of purely external character-acting, 
and the whole performance shows Mr. Tree's 
remarkable power of refashioning and disguising 
his personality. This is what, in strict logic, it 
ought not to show; but melodrama laughs at logic. 
Mrs. Tree's performance of Henriette is pleasant 
and pathetic, and Miss Lily Hanbury is good as 
the traitress Julie. Mr. Lewis Waller made a great 
success as De Noirville, the gallery imperiously 
raising him from the dead after the trial scene to 
bow his acknowledgments. Little Miss Dorrie Harris 
was a delightful Suzanne, no less charming, I think, 
than Miss Minnie Terry, who played the part at the 
Haymarket. Messrs. Lionel Brough and E. M. 
Robson made the comic soldiers very popular, and 
Mr. F. Perceval Stevens was clever as the police- 
officer. Altogether, the revival promised to serve 
its purpose well ; but I am sure Mr. Tree will forgive 
me for hoping that it may not be too long before we 
meet again at Philippi. 




December %th. 

IN writing of Admiral Guinea* before it had stood 
the test of performance, I was careful to express no 
opinion of its merits as an acting play. This 
reticence seems to have been interpreted in some 
quarters as a confession of scepticism. It was not so 
intended. I trusted that the reader would discern 
between the lines my ardent belief in the acting 
qualities of the play a belief which the experience 
of last week has absolutely confirmed. Most of the 
critics all, I think, who did not come to the theatre 
with an inveterate prejudice against everything that 
savoured of "literature" have admitted its acting 
qualities, with reservations. Knowing the piece more 
familiarly than they, and therefore, I believe, discern- 
ing its possibilities more clearly, I venture to suggest 
that these reservations were for the most part -not 
unfounded, but misdirected. The critics could not 
help feeling that several passages dragged a good 
deal; at the same time they saw (and have emphati- 
cally stated) that the actors engaged were individually 
excellent; whence they concluded that, where they 
* November 29 December 3 (afternoon performances). 


felt their interest flag, the play must be at fault. The 
mistake was very natural, but a mistake none the less. 
No one with any knowledge of the stage will think it 
a paradox to assert that, in a play of five characters, 
five excellent pieces of acting do not necessarily make 
a perfect representation. Without attributing the 
slightest blame to any individual artist, I think it only 
fair to the authors to say that the first performance 
was altogether too slow. The time of representation 
might have been reduced by a quarter of an hour, 
perhaps even twenty minutes, without the omission 
of a single word; and this quarter of an hour would 
have made all the difference in the general effect. 
No one was to blame, or if any one, I myself. I 
attended several rehearsals, and found all the actors 
most courteous and cordial in accepting such sugges- 
tions as I was able to offer. Since, then, this slowness 
remained uncorrected, the fault must be in some 
measure mine. There it was, at any rate; and it went 
a good way to mar a performance which, for the rest, 
has on all hands been recognised as admirable. Mr. 
Sydney Valentine's Pew was the powerful, picturesque 
and humorous embodiment which was only to be 
expected of one of the very best of our character- 
comedians. Mr. William Mollison, less known to the 
London public, made an equally profound impression 
in the part of John Gaunt. His fine voice, his vigor- 
ous and fervid delivery, and his stern countenance, 


softening at times into the truest tenderness, were 
precisely what the character required. I am much 
mistaken if this creation does not mark a step in Mr. 
Mollison's career. Mr. Robert Loraine, who played 
Kit, is a young actor of whom we shall hear much in the 
future. He has a good voice, a striking presence, and 
abundant intelligence and feeling. As yet, perhaps, 
he is a little over-eager, and apt to be too much 
carried away by the spirit of a scene. This is a good 
fault, and one which will correct itself. In Miss 
Cissie Loftus's exceedingly simple, graceful, and un- 
affected Arethusa, there were moments which betrayed 
inexperience; but there were many other moments 
which revealed genuine and unmistakable talent. 
Her first greeting of Kit, for instance, was perfect; 
one could not wish to see such a passage more 
delightfully treated; and this was only one out of 
many equally charming touches. The part of Mrs. 
Drake small but far from insignificant was admir- 
ably filled by Miss Dolores Drummond, an artist in 
all she undertakes. I have always the greatest 
diffidence in criticising a performance in the pre- 
paration of which I have had any hand; but here 
I am only re-wording, with absolute sincerity, the 
general opinion of critics and public alike. 

To return, then, to the play. A very favourably- 
disposed and even enthusiastic critic sums up his 
judgment in the phrase " Not drama, but something 


almost better;" and several others have said the same 
thing in different words. This is the view against 
which I most strenuously protest. On the question 
which other critics have discussed with some warmth 
whether Admiral Guinea is or is not to be classed 
as a melodrama I have no definite opinion. Ques- 
tions of classification are always rather idle. If every 
play be a melodrama in which the action turns upon 
rascality and violence and the characters are syntheti- 
cally, not analytically, presented, then so much the 
better for melodrama it may certainly claim Admiral 
Guinea for its own. The " melo " is neither here 
nor there; it is the "drama" on which I insist. Take 
any definition you please of drama, and this play- 
this simple, old-fashioned, nautical " yarn " fulfils it 
to the letter. The most popular definition at the 
present moment is, I understand, a conflict of will 
with will. Others prefer to put it that the essence of 
drama lies in an Obstacle which the leading person- 
ages must overcome, or against which they must 
shatter themselves. What have we here but a conflict 
of will with will, and an Obstacle overcome ? Let us 
put aside for the moment all charm of style, and 
suppose the language that of the sorriest hack play- 
wright. We start with the prime element of half the 
dramas in existence a Lover and his Lass. Between 
them stands the girl's stern and bigoted father, deter- 
mined that his child shall not make an " ungodly " 


marriage. That is the initial situation; it is briefly, 
vigorously presented; and then comes the crisis the 
drama in the course of which the stern parent's heart 
is softened and his self-righteousness rebuked. An 
associate of his old and evil days has sought him out, 
in the belief that he hoards untold doubloons in his 
brass-bound sea-chest. This visitant from the past is 
none other than that gorgeous and incomparable 
villain, Pew; but we have agreed to reduce the thing 
to its simplest terms; let us suppose him any the 
most commonplace ruffian. In the great scene which 
ends the first act, the Penitent and Impenitent Thieves 
are confronted and contrasted with each other, their 
histories sketched, their characters posited, and the 
interest carried forward in the blind man's threat of 
vengeance. If this be not drama, what is ? In the 
next act, the lover, smarting under the bigot's scorn, 
has been drowning his sorrows in liquor. His sweet- 
heart seeks him out, their meeting is interrupted by 
her father, and the lover, goaded beyond all self- 
control, retorts upon the bigot in such stinging terms 
that he is fairly silenced and driven from the field. 
The blind man has listened unseen to this passage at 
arms; he thinks to find in the exasperated lover the 
seeing accomplice whom he requires in his attack 
upon the sea-chest, and plies him with flattery and 
drink in order to deaden his scruples. If this be 
not drama, what is ? Meanwhile the father and 


daughter have returned home. The father, much 
moved and somewhat shaken by the scene he has just 
gone through, tries to justify himself in his daughter's 
eyes by telling her the tragedy of his life and of her 
mother's death, and showing her that the supposed 
bullion-chest contains nothing but a few trinkets of 
her mother's, which are the treasures of his remorse- 
ful soul. Be it well written or ill, I say this scene 
is of the very essence of drama, and furthermore 
that it is rightly motived, rightly placed, and rightly 
developed; for the daughter, with exquisite feminine 
dexterity, turns her father's avowals against himself, 
and succeeds in half-softening him towards her lover. 
They go to bed, and the housebreakers appear on the 
scene. As soon as he realises Pew's design, Kit, 
drunk as he is, cries off; whereupon Pew leaps at 
him like a tiger, rouses the house and completely 
turns the tables against him, by making up a tale 
more consistent and less improbable than his. At 
Arethusa's intercession, however, Captain Gaunt con- 
sents to let her lover go free; but Kit will not accept 
the benefit of the doubt, and constitutes himself the 
Captain's prisoner. Though they were couched in 
the fustian of a Pettitt or a Fitzball, these scenes would 
still be essentially dramatic. There is no need to 
go in detail into the very short last act the situation 
of the sleep-walker, the blind man and the lighted 
candle. Its function in the scheme of the play is to 


vindicate. Kit's honour as against Pew, and to com- 
plete the breach in Gaunt's pharisaism. Every one 
admits its ingenuity, though some Mr. Walkley, for 
instance argue that it is "one of those situations 
which are more thrilling to think out than to see in 
action." This may possibly be so; the description 
certainly applies to many other scenes of elaborate 
ingenuity, and indicates the rock on which they tend 
to split. My own belief is that had the actors been 
able to get every movement accurately timed, every 
gesture and expression under thorough control, Mr. 
Walkley's judgment of it would have been different. 
This, however, is only an opinion, which may one 
day, perhaps, be proved or disproved. I am willing 
to set down as doubtful the theatrical value of the 
last scene, though of its imaginative strength there 
can be no doubt. It is not on this act, but on the 
other three, that I found my faith in the distinctively 
theatrical quality of the play. I have tried to show 
that it states and works out a definite theme, simple 
but very human, and that, even were it written in 
transpontine jargon, its scenes and incidents would 
be eminently dramatic. But as a matter of fact it is 
written in a nimble, delicate, nervous, and harmonious 
English that gives (to my ear) a keener joy on the 
tenth hearing than on the first. Every speech, while 
strictly true to character, is yet a little masterpiece 
either of racy ruffianism or of grace, or tenderness, or 



manly vehemence, or thrilling sonority. This is not 
"literature" inappropriately dragged upon the stage. 
It is the perfection of dramatic writing as applied to 
such a semi-conventional subject a glorified nautical 
drama, just as Treasure Island was a glorified nautical 
romance. If Admiral Guinea, now that it has made its 
way to the footlights, is not heard again and yet again 
for many a year to come, it can only be because the 
conditions of the English theatre are invincibly hostile 
to anything like distinction in theatrical art. 

I have no space left, unfortunately, to do justice to 
the opening piece, Honesty a Cottage Flower^ by Miss 
Margaret Young. It has been generally, but not 
adequately, praised; its commonplace exterior having 
in some measure obscured its delicate and ingenious 
humour. Miss Young is a writer of real talent, who 
will certainly make her mark. The part of Clorinda 
Anne was brilliantly played by Miss Kate Rorke, with 
able assistance from Mr. S. A. Cookson, Miss Una 
Cockerell, and Mr. Ridgwood Barrie. 



15^ December. 

MR. PINERO, according to the paragraphists, intends 
to call his forthcoming play "a comedietta in four 


acts." Mr. Louis Parker has been beforehand with 
him. He has not appropriated the phrase, but he has 
produced the thing. The Happy Life* is a come- 
dietta in four acts, and if you like your comediettas in 
four acts, you will enjoy The Happy Life. Seriously, 
it is quite enjoyable alert, entertaining, amiable, 
humorous, and very fairly acted. You will not be 
bored, and, if you resolutely tell yourself from the 
outset "This is a comedietta, and nothing more," 
you will not be disappointed. I, unfortunately, was 
not thus forewarned. Mr. Parker had neglected 
Mr. Pinero's precaution, and called his play on the 
programme, not a comedietta, but a comedy. Con- 
sequently I was taken in by his first act, which seemed 
to promise a serious, almost tragic, romance, and had 
to readjust my expectations (always a disagreeable 
process) between the second act and the third. 

Mr. Parker's first act is, indeed, a singularly skilful 
and even poetical prologue to a different drama. 
We are introduced to an aesthetic quietist, who thinks 
to evade the common lot of men by shutting himself 
up in a " brazen tower " of indifferentism, and look- 
ing on at the shifting pageant of existence without 
ever sallying forth and taking part in it. One Christ- 
mas Eve, in his "brazen tower" (situated, by the 
way, in Fig Tree Court, Temple) he vaunts this 
philosophy, over the walnuts and the wine, as the 

* Duke of York's Theatre, December 6 January 29, 1898. 


secret of the Happy Life. One of his guests, a Pole, 
warns him of the danger of such boasting. According 
to a Polish superstition, the man who ventures to 
declare himself unassailably happy will presently hear 
the knock of a Figure at the Door, bringing " the 
Unexpected Gift : to the merry, sorrow ; to the idle, 
toil ; to the unambitious, a great task." This is 
simply our old friend Nemesis in Sarmatian attire; 
but the disguise is effective. With delicate skill, Mr. 
Parker parodies in advance the incident which we all 
foresee, and thus masks its conventionality. Scarcely 
has the Pole given his warning when the expected 
knock is heard at the door and behold ! it is only 
the waiter, who has been sent out in search of a cork- 
screw. Yet even the waiter, in a sense, is an emissary 
of Nemesis ; for the news he brings, that the whole 
house is absolutely deserted, has a determining in- 
fluence on the sequel. Our philosopher's guests 
disperse, and he sinks into his easy-chair by the fire- 
side, to doze luxuriously over Omar Khayyam. 
Suddenly he hears a fall on the staircase outside, then 
a wail, then a moan. He opens the door, and there, 
on his threshold, lies a young and beautiful woman, 
in rich evening dress, senseless, and bleeding from a 
wound in the forehead. Now, I say this is a bit of 
excellent romance ; and it is ingeniously heightened, 
when he has carried her into his room, by the sym- 
bolism of the Sword of Severance a detail which it 


would take too long to explain. I do not even cavil 
at the stage-arrangement by which the philosopher is 
compelled to pass the night watching over his un- 
conscious charge. It is not, in fact, very convincing ; 
even at the cost of leaving her alone for a few minutes, 
he ought clearly to have gone out and summoned aid, 
medical and other.- But this is a trifle; a little re- 
adjustment (some trick of a door-lock) would make 
the thing plausible enough; and one ought never to 
quarrel with an initial postulate which is not gro- 
tesquely and foolishly impossible. The situation at 
the end of the first act, in short, is to my thinking 
novel, imaginative, appetising. 

But what comes of it? Why, nothing but that most 
commonplace thing in the world, that true comedietta- 
catastrophe, a happy marriage. The remaining three 
acts serve only to Hasten the marriage and to retard 
the happiness in each case with no adequate reason. 
The second act, indeed, with its picture of the 
Pettigrew-Smith household, is exceedingly entertain- 
ing. The story stands absolutely still during three- 
fourths of it, but the character-drawing is so clever 
and vivacious that we are in no hurry for the thread 
to be resumed. And when at last it is taken up 
again, what do we find? A problem of convention 
where we had looked for a crisis of passion. Was it 
unreasonable to expect that the Figure at the Door, 
so solemnly, so impressively introduced, was destined 


to bring a gust of tragedy into "the Happy Life"? 
For my part, I had no doubt that the lady in the 
syncope had been knocked downstairs by a brute of 
a husband, and that the drama was to lie in the 
seemingly hopeless, though no doubt ultimately vic- 
torious, passion that should spring up between her 
and her rescuer. Or she might have been a lady 
with a past (or even a present), and the barrier 
between them might have lain, not in any outward 
bond, but in her own character. It seemed perfectly 
evident, at any rate, that the Figure at the Door must 
bring, as her Unexpected Gift, temptation, agony, 
despair, an emotional cyclone of some sort. But not 
a bit of it ! The Unexpected Gift is love at first 
sight ; there is no sort of barrier between the parties ; 
and the only thing that retards the happiness which 
we see to be inevitable is the philosopher's pre- 
posterous Quixotism in persuading himself and others 
that a marriage of mutual inclination is a marriage 
of chivalrous duty, forced by cruel fate upon two 
unwilling victims. It may be a nice question of 
casuistry what a gentleman ought to do if a lady is 
compelled by circumstances over which neither of 
them has any control to pass a night in his chambers; 
but it is absolutely certain that, unless they love each 
other, the very worst thing he can do is to marry her. 
It is not quite clear whether Mr. Parker would have 
us understand that Cyril Charteris's Quixotism is 


only his love in disguise ; but this was not what I 
gathered. Cyril, I take it, would have felt equally 
bound to marry any lady, however unamiable and 
unattractive, to whom he had rendered a compromis- 
ing service ; and I suspect, moreover, that in this he 
has Mr. Parker's approval. If so, I must gently but 
firmly protest. People don't do these things ; and if 
they did, the drama would be much better employed 
in " smiling such chivalry away " than in celebrating 
and rewarding it. Accepting Cyril, however, as a 
veritable Don Quixote that is to say, a gentleman 
of the best intentions who ought to be placed under 
legal restraint one could see a drama in the passion- 
ate repugnance of a sane and right-minded girl to a 
marriage proposed by this benevolent madman, and 
forced upon her by her rapacious relations, who jump 
at the absurd pretext of a "compromising" adventure, 
in order to get a millionaire's son into the family. 
Some such drama seems to have hovered before Mr. 
Parker's mind, but he has not grasped and presented 
it. We see nothing of Evelyn's character until the 
marriage is over, and very little even then. The real 
drama takes place in the interval between the second 
and third acts, and is left entirely to the imagination. 
The third and fourth acts are devoted to the leisurely 
and conventional working out of the old comedietta 
situation of two people really and evidently loving 
each other, but each mistaking the other's feeling and 


too proud to make the first advance. There is some 
ingenuity, of an old-fashioned sort, in the details, and 
the writing is throughout agreeable enough. But one 
resents the dwindling of the passionate romance fore- 
shadowed in Act I. into the trivial domestic comedy 
of Acts III. and IV. There is nothing more exasper- 
ating in drama than the deliberate and elaborate 
avoidance of an explanation which is trembling, so to 
speak, on the tip of the tongue, but must be post- 
poned because it is only 10.30 and the final tableau 
is not due till n. 

Mr. Frederick Kerr did wonders with a part 
which was obviously designed rather on the Forbes- 
Robertson model. It would be hard to imagine any 
one less Quixote-like in appearance and manner; but 
he played with such tact and pleasant sincerity that 
the audience accepted him without misgiving. It 
was with some amusement that, in reading the play 
after the performance, I came upon this stage-direc- 
tion: "Cyril reads from the open book on his kneejs; 
and, as he reads, his right hand unconsciously closes 
on the handle of the sword, so that he realises the 
well-known Dore picture of Don Quixote." The 
blame may rest with my sluggishness of perception, 
but Mr. Kerr, at this point, stirred in me no faintest 
reminiscence either of Cervantes or of Dore. Miss 
Dorothea Baird had to struggle with a practically 
non-existent character ; for Evelyn has nothing to do 

"DANDV DAN." 345 

but to look haggard and speak querulously. Miss 
Baird got through the ungrateful part with credit 
the greatest genius could scarcely have made it 
effective. Mr. Hermann Vezin was admirable as the 
poor old hack who lives by "gutting" masterpieces. 
The scene of his disillusionment, in the fourth act, 
was warmly and justly applauded. Miss Frances 
Ivor was very clever as Mrs. Pettigrew Smith; Miss 
Henrietta Watson as Maggie showed really remark- 
able talent in the second act, where alone she has 
any opportunity; and Miss Carlotta Nillson was 
bright and agreeable as Don Quixote's practical- 
minded sister. Other parts were well played by 
Mr. John Beauchamp, Mr. Arthur Elwood, Mr. 
Sidney Brough, Mr. Scott Buist, and Mr. Aubrey 

At the Lyric Theatre the devotees of Mr. Arthur 
Roberts may study him in his latest avatar, Dandy 
Dan, the Lifeguardsman ;* for whom words have been 
concocted by Mr. Basil Hood and music by Mr. 
Walter Slaughter. The piece is absolutely chaotic; 
it exists in and for Mr. Arthur Roberts, who gambols 
through it at his own sweet will, no one for a moment 
inquiring into the why or wherefore of any of his 
fantastic proceedings. We may say of Mr. Roberts, 
as Matthew Arnold said of an earlier actor-manager: 
"Others abide our question; thou art free." There 
"" December 4 still running. 


is a good deal of cleverness in some of the disguises 
which Mr. Roberts assumes in the second act; but 
his fundamental disguise, that of the Lifeguardsman, 
is too far beyond the limits of conceivable caricature 
to be at all funny. Mr. W. H. Denny's performance 
of a melancholy policeman was a piece of genuine 
comedy; otherwise there was nothing in the acting 
to call for special note. 



22nd December. 

THE death of Mr. William Terriss* is one of those 
occurrences on which no comment seems possible 
save an almost inarticulate cry of horror and regret. 
It is a meaningless brutality of chance before which 
one can only stand aghast. There is no moral to be 
drawn, no consolation to be suggested. It is impos- 
sible to discern any sort of " poetic justice " or tragic 
significance in the event. The crudest material 
accident has generally its lesson points to some 
common danger that can be abated, or conveys a 
warning against some form of recklessness. But the 
psychological accident to which (so far as we can see) 

* Mr. Terriss was assassinated at the stage-door of the 
Adelphi Theatre on the evening of December 16. 


Mr. Terriss fell a victim is a thing which no policy 
can prevent, no caution avert. Society humanity 
stands helpless before a malignant caprice of fate. 
The loss to melodrama is great ; for of our heroes 
of melodrama Mr. Terriss was not only the most 
popular, but also by far the most agreeable. In some 
of the parts which lately came in his way, he acted 
with real sincerity and impressiveness. In work of a 
higher order, a lack of sincerity was his stumbling- 
block. His " fatal gift of beauty " hampered him as 
an artist. He was always self-conscious and always 
cold. When we think, however, of his rivals in the 
melodramatic field, and ask ourselves who is to 
succeed him, we realise that even those who care 
least for the form of art in which he excelled have 
ample reason to deplore his loss. 




UNLESS the children of to-day, like their elders, have 

been corrupted by a surfeit of spectacle, the afternoon 

entertainment* at Terry's Theatre ought to be popular 

* December 23 January 29, 1898 


during the holidays. It consists of three, or rather 
four, of Hans Andersen's stories arranged for the 
stage by Mr. Basil Hood, with music by Mr. Walter 
Slaughter. Mr. Hood has shown real ingenuity in 
compressing his themes so as to secure that unity of 
time and place which is quite as essential in nursery 
extravaganza as in classic tragedy where, by the way, 
it is not essential at all. He first deals with Little 
Claus and Big Claus, which he treats as a rapid and 
rattling farce almost too summarily, perhaps, for 
clear comprehension. Mr. Hood no doubt felt, quite 
justly, that the incidents of this delectable "droll" 
would not bear leisurely examination. There is a 
fine mediaeval heartlessness about it which would be 
a little trying to modern susceptibilities if we were 
given time to think about and realise it. Children, 
however, are thoroughly mediaeval in their ethics, and 
accept the slaughter of the grandmother, the drown- 
ing of Big Claus, and all the ingenious villainies of 
Little Claus, without turning a hair, I am not sure 
that the juvenile members of the audience, who were 
many, did not enjoy this hasty sketch as much as the 
more elaborate entertainments which followed. The 
longest of these was a cleverly interwoven version of 
The Princess and the Swineherd and The Emperor's 
New Clothes. From first to last it was highly divert- 
ing. The musical entry of the Emperor and his 
household (modelled on "The House that Jack 


Built") was not unworthy of Gilbert and Sullivan; 
the Princess's gambols with her dolls and her doctors 
were full of spirit and enjoyment; and the more 
sentimental element in the action, mainly represented 
by the swineherd-Prince, was marked by genuine 
feeling, yet remained well on the hither side of the 
didactic and the goody-goody. Mr. H. O. Clarey 
made an amusingly fantastic Emperor, Miss Kitty 
Loftus a sprightly and merry Princess, and Miss 
Louie Pounds a picturesque Prince. The third place 
in the bill was occupied by a brief and bright version 
of The Soldier and the Tinder-Box, which was even 
more successful than its predecessors. Nothing could 
be better than Mr. Eric Lewis's portraiture of the 
nincompoop King, a masterly piece of quiet humour. 
The duet between the two Toy Soldiers (Mr. Wind- 
ham Guise and Mr. J. W. Macdonald) was ex- 
ceedingly funny ; Mr. Murray King, as the Witch, 
was perhaps the uncanniest beldame ever seen on 
any stage ; and Mr. Joseph Wilson and Miss Louie 
Pounds were very pleasant as the Soldier and the 
Princess. Altogether the "triple bill" may be cor- 
dially commended to parents and guardians. Their 
charges will be delighted with it, and they themselves 
will not be bored or, if they are, they should be 
ashamed to confess it. 

Mrs. Bernard Beere, happily restored to health, has 
made her reappearance in the part of Anne Carew 


in A Sheep in Wolfs Clothing* at the Comedy 
Theatre. Her performance showed no decline either 
in charm or in power, and was greeted with en- 
thusiasm by the audience. It is remarkable, indeed, 
that after so long a period of enforced retirement, 
Mrs. Beere's talent should show no sign of even a 
momentary faltering. Mr. Henry Neville played 
Jasper Carew with his unfailing vigour and decision, 
and Mr. Kemble was picturesque and amusing, 
though less truculent than might have been desired, 
in the part of Colonel Kirke. The comedietta pre- 
cedes Mr. Esmond's delightful comedy One Summer's 
Day, which has fulfilled the promise of its first night 
and is now well past its hundredth. 

* December 4 still running. 


THE present volume contains the fifth yearly in- 
gathering of my criticisms of the London stage. As 
some five-and-twenty theatres in the West End of 
London are practically the only places in the British 
Empire where new plays of any importance are pro- 
duced,* it follows that whoever keeps a constant 
watch on these theatres passes in review the whole 
of the living English drama, in so far as it approaches, 
however remotely, to the confines of literature. The 
Provinces and the Colonies are supplied either with 
plays which have stood the test of a London pro- 
duction, or with melodramas, farces, and variety- 
plays even lower than the lowest of those which 
we see at the West End theatres. These volumes, 
then, may be said to contain, not only the record 
of the five-and-twenty play-houses aforesaid, but the 
history of the English Drama for the past five years, 

* The recent fashion of provincial "trial trips" does not 
invalidate this statement. Within the five years in question, at 
any rate, no play of any moment has been produced in the 
Provinces or Colonies and not seen in London. 


from the point of view of one fairly diligent ob- 

History, however, is too large a word. Let us 
rather say annals the materials for history. Fifty 
years hence the history of these five years may be 
written perhaps in five lines. If the historian of 
1950 makes any mention of the volumes in which so 
many hours of my life are buried, it will probably 
be to chuckle over some delectable ineptitude of 
criticism or forecast, as in this volume (p. 189) I 
smile at George Henry Lewes's criticism of, and 
forecast concerning, " La Dame aux Camelias." 
Ungrateful historian ! I forgive you in advance, 
and even propose, out of the magnanimity of my 
nature, to heap anticipatory coals of fire upon your 
as yet unborn head. I propose to give you, what 
no one, to my knowledge, has hitherto essayed : a 
statistical summary, a quantitative analysis, of the 
five years' output of the five-and-twenty theatres. 
You shall learn from the following pages, not in 
vague guesses and rash generalisations, but in toler- 
ably accurate figures, what forms of drama had the 
greatest vogue, how native English work bulked in 
proportion to adaptations, what authors were the 
most popular, with several other] facts of more or 
less significance. You can then compare the like 
statistics for your own age, and wonder (I hope) 
how we could manage to support existence in the 


theatrical world of the far-off and almost fabulous 
nineteenth century. 

But I do not write solely for this conjectural his- 
torian or antiquary. The - enquiry, I take it, is of 
living interest to ourselves. Without it, we do not 
really know what has been passing before our eyes. 
We have only vague impressions as to the preponder- 
ance of this or that style of play, the popularity of 
this or that author. For example, the belief that the 
English theatre subsists almost entirely on adaptations 
from the French still lingers on in several quarters 
mainly, indeed, in Paris, but also among those 
superior persons in England who, because they dis- 
like, think it necessary also to despise, the stage. 
The figures to be given presently will once for 
all dispose of this illusion. We have still far too 
many adaptations from the French, but they form 
considerably less than one-fifth of the theatrical fare 
consumed by the London public during these five 

A distinctive feature of my annual record has been, 
from the first, the registering of the length of run 
attained by each play. What I am now doing, then, 
is to systematise and bring to a focus the information 
contained in the footnotes scattered throughout these 
volumes. A summing up of the events of one year 
is of very little practical use. The period is too 
short to afford any basis for a valid generalisation. 



But a conspectus of five years is a different matter. 
It may not lead to any very definite or profitable 
result; but the experiment is at least worth trying. 
The lustrum in question will, I think, be recognised 
as pretty distinctly marked off from the years which 
preceded it* Whatever its value, a new literary 
movement set in with the production of " The Second 
Mrs. Tanqueray" in May 1893; and it was about 
the same time, or a little earlier, that the all- 
conquering " musical farce " began its triumphal pro- 
gress. There is surely something to be learnt, then, 
from what I have called a quantitative analysis of the 
theatrical entertainments of this period. 

My " perlustration " begins with January ist, 1893, 
and ends with December 3ist, 1897. I take no cog- 
nisance of anything outside these fixed points. If a play 
was produced in 1891 or 1892 and ran on into 1893, I 
count those weeks only which fell within the latter year; 
and similarly "The Little Minister " (to take one ex- 
ample), produced November 6th, 1897, counts for eight 
weeks only in my reckoning, though it may be destined 

* It is perhaps worth noting that at the beginning of the 
period (in January 1893) "Our Boys" was running at the 
Vaudeville Theatre. It disappeared after four weeks, and 
with it H. J. Byron, the most popular author of the 
previous twenty years, vanished from the scene. Nor has 
any play by James Albery been revived during the years 
under review. 


to outrun the century. I have made my calculations 
in weeks, partly because this unit gave me more manage- 
able figures to deal with, mainly because it would have 
involved intolerable and quite unnecessary labour to 
reckon the actual number of performances of each 
play. At some theatres only occasional matinees 
are given, at some there is a weekly matinee, at 
others two matinees a week. No human industry could 
have grappled with all these details; so I contented 
myself with counting the weeks of a run, and leaving 
the matinees to take care of themselves. Odd days 
I struck off my reckoning, unless they came within 
one of the complete week; thus a play which ran six 
weeks and three days counts for six weeks only, 
whereas one which ran six weeks and five days 
counts for seven weeks. This may seem an arbitrary 
rule, but the inexactness it involves is very trifling. 
In a few cases in which plays, after a certain steady 
run, have been played two or three times a week, 
in alternation with other plays, I have reckoned 
the total number of such intermittent performances 
and reduced it to weeks. I have tried to take into 
account every production* at the recognised West End 
theatres that ran for a week or more, except panto- 
mimes, operas (whether serious or comic), and plays 

* One-act pieces are not included in my calculations, but 
only such plays as have formed the staple of an evening's 


in foreign languages. The boundary between comic 
opera and musical farce is not very clearly defined, but 
in practice I have found little difficulty in making the 
distinction. In a comic opera, I take it, the music and 
the plot are of prime importance; in a musical farce 
there is nothing that can be called a plot, and yet the 
libretto, the "gags," and the "comic business" are of 
more importance than the music. As I shall print in 
full my list of musical farces, there can at least be no 
doubt as to where I have (rightly or wrongly) drawn 
the line. Let me add that at the Princess's and the 
Opera Comique the entertainments presented have 
occasionally been so distinctly of the East End or 
provincial order that I felt they did not come within 
my critical province ; wherefore my record as regards 
these theatres is not quite complete. It is possible 
that at other theatres I may have overlooked unim- 
portant and brief revivals ; and, as I am no great arith- 
metician, I may perhaps have fallen into some errors 
of mere computation. I am confident, however, that 
no such oversight or inaccuracy is sufficient seriously 
to invalidate the statistics I am about to present. 

One more word of preface. It would of course 
be idle to suppose that the comparative popularity 
of two plays is exactly indicated by the length of 
their respective runs. For one thing, theatres differ 
greatly in size, and Drury Lane, for example, will 
seat about three times as many people as the Hay- 


market or the St. James's. It might have been 
possible, no doubt, to allow for differences of size 
and reckon one week at Drury Lane as equivalent 
to three weeks at the Haymarket. But even this 
would not give anything like an exact and con- 
clusive result, since the audience in a theatre (and 
especially the paying audience) is not always, or 
even generally, commensurate with its capacity. At 
a theatre of moderate rent, worked by an inexpensive 
company, plays can be acted for months and years to 
audiences that at another theatre would mean speedy 
bankruptcy. Moreover, many plays are run for weeks 
and months either at a constant loss, or at so small a 
profit that two or three weeks of bad " business " will 
swallow it all up, and leave a deficit on the whole 
enterprise. It is impossible, in short, without access 
to the books of the management, to measure with 
absolute precision the power of attraction exercised 
by any particular play. My counting of weeks yields 
only an approximate indication of popularity, but an 
indication which, in the mass, will not lead us far 
astray. Three provisos are, however, worth making 
(i) As musical farce and spectacular melo- 
drama are usually played at large theatres, and 
by large and expensive companies, a long run, 
for plays of these two classes, may safely 
be taken as indicating very great (though not 
necessarily very remunerative) popularity. (2) Our 


comedy theatres, where the works of such writers 
as Mr. Pinero, Mr. Jones, and Mr. Grundy are 
usually acted, do not differ very greatly in capacity, 
so that, within this particular class, comparative 
length of run forms a pretty trustworthy indication 
of comparative power of attraction. (3) The effect 
of the bogus run the sham success, carried on week 
after week at a steady loss, either to salve some one's 
vanity, or in the gambler's frenzied hope that the luck 
must turn, or to give the play a good start in the 
provinces the effect of the bogus run is to lend a 
false air of popularity to the lowest forms of enter- 
tainment, and especially to worthless farces, whether 
home-made or imported. A serious play at a leading 
theatre cannot be run for long to empty or profusely 
"papered" houses the loss would be too great. 
Thus where the works of our leading authors are 
concerned, apparent success may be taken to mean 
real success; whereas if one dared strike off the 
bogus successes (most of them notorious to every 
one who is at all behind the scenes) the figures for 
farce and adaptations from the French would be 
significantly reduced. 

My scheme of classification has been as follows : 

i. Shakespeare. 

ii. Old Plays, other than Shakespeare's, 
iii. Modern Plays. 


1. Dramas, comedies, and serious prose plays 

in general. 

2. Poetical plays. 

3. Melodramas. 

4. Farces. 

5. Burlesques. 

6. Musical farces. 



i. From the French, 
ii. From the German, 
iii. From the Norwegian, 
iv. From other languages. 
Here, then, are the results of my enumeration : 


i. Shakespeare 

1893. Weeks. 

King Lear .... 4 (after Jan. i, 1893). 
The Taming of the Shrew . 2 

Occasional performances of The Merchant of Venice, 
Much Ado about Nothing, and Henry VIII. were given 
at the Lyceum ; and Measure for Measure was acted by 
the amateurs who afterwards became the Elizabethan 
Stage Society. 

1894. Weeks. 
Twelfth Night 16 

As You Like It was performed once; The Merchant 
of Venice, once ; The Merry Wives of Windsor, twice ; 
and Hamlet, twice. 

1895. Weeks. 

The Two Gentlemen of Verona i 

A Midsummer Night's Dream ... 3 
Romeo and Juliet 13 


Occasional performances of The Merchant of Venice, 
Much Ado, and Macbeth were given at the Lyceum. 
The Elizabethan Stage Society performed Twelfth Night 
and The Comedy of Errors. 

1896. Weeks. 
King Henry IV. (Part I.) .... 4 

Cymbeline . . . . . . . 13 

As You Like It 15 

Sir Henry Irving played Richard III. once, the run 
being cut short by an accident. The Elizabethan Stage 
Society acted The Two Gentlemen of Verona. 

1897. Weeks. 

Richard 1 1 1. , 5 

Hamlet (Olympic) 2 

Othello i 

Merchant of Venice . . , . i 

Antony and Cleopatra . . . .2 

Macbeth . . . . . . i 

Hamlet (Lyceum) . . . . .14 

Two performances of Hamlet were given at Her 
Majesty's, and the Elizabethan Stage Society acted 
Twelfth Night, the Shakespearian scenes from Edward 
III., and The Tempest. 

Detached performances apart, Shakespeare has 
occupied the stage for 97 weeks. Twenty of his 
plays (including those produced by the Elizabethan 
Stage Society) have at one time or another been 

ii. Old Plays, other than Shakespeare's. 


1893. The Hunchback (Sheridan Knowles) . i 
The School for Scandal (Sheridan) . . 5 



1894. Caste (Robertson) 8 

Money (Lytton) . . . . 15 

1895. The Rivals (Sheridan) .... 6 

1896. The School for Scandal . . . . 5 

The Liar (Foote) i 

Black Ey'd Susan (Jerrold) . .' . 19 

1897. David Garrick (Robertson) . . -4 

Virginius (Knowles) 2 

Caste * . . 4 


High Life Below Stairs was played for eight weeks 
as a curtain-raiser at Terry's. The Elizabethan Stage 
Society has given single performances of Dr. Faustus 
and Arden of Feversham. 

iii. Modern Plays. 



I need not print the full list of the plays which 
come under this heading. All the more important 
ones will be enumerated in separate tables, showing 
the number of weeks during which each of our 
leading dramatists has held the stage. Suffice it to 
say that I include in this class 88 plays, which 
occupied in all 740 weeks. 


Hypatia (Ogilvie) . . . . .15 

Becket (Tennyson) 13* 

The Tempter (Jones) . 10 

* Including revival. 



The Foresters (Tennyson) ... 2 

King Arthur (Carr) 16 

The Sin of St. Hulda (Ogilvie) ... 2 

The Pilgrim's Progress (Collingham) . 3 

7 plays, occupying 61 weeks. 

The Prodigal Daughter .... 2 

1893. The Black Domino 8 

A Woman's Revenge . . . -35 
A Life of Pleasure ..' . . .20 

i894.*The World ; - : .- V v . . 7 
The Cotton King ; '. 8 
Shall we Forgive Her . . . .8 
The Fatal Card . . . . .27 

The Derby Winner 19 

Robbery Under Arms .... 2 

1895. Cheer, Boys, Cheer . . . .22 
One of the Best ..... 24 

1896. Tommy Atkins i 

The Sign of the Cross . . . . 62f 

True Blue 5 

The Star of India 6 

Boys Together 14 

The Duchess of Coolgardie . . .10 

1897. The Free Pardon 3 

The Daughters of Babylon ... 9 
The Mariners of England .... 4 
The Days of the Duke . . . .10 
The White Heather 13 

23 plays, occupying 319 weeks. 
* Revival. t Including revival in 1897. 



Here, again, the list is too long to print in full. 
It amounts to 51 plays, occupying 657 weeks. It 
should be stated, however, that nearly a third of this 
tale of weeks is furnished by " Charlie's Aunt " alone, 
which, produced before the period under review, ran 
for 206 weeks within it. 

Burlesques, as distinct from the all-absorbing 

musical farces, cut a very poor figure : 


The Babble Shop ..... 2 
Jaunty Jane Shore . . . . .6 
*Little Jack Sheppard .... 6 
Under the Clock ..... 7 
All my Eye-Vanhoe ..... i 
A Model Trilby ..... 1 1 
6 plays, occupying 33 weeks. 


In Town. . . 33 

1893. Morocco Bound . . . . 43 
A Modern Don Quixote . . 3 
The Gaiety Girl . . . .61 

Don Juan ..... 33 =173 weeks. 

1894. Go-Bang ..... 24 
King Kodak .... 8 
Claude Duval . . . . ' 20 

* Revival. 



The Lady Slavey . . .13 
Little Christopher Columbus . 61 
The Shop Girl .... 78 = 204 weeks. 

1895. The Artist's Model . . . 57 
Gentleman Joe . . . -56 

All Abroad 15 = 128 weeks. 

1896. The New Barmaid . . .20 
Biarritz . . . . . 10 
The Geisha -. ; . ,.- ., . 87 
On the March . . , . n 
My Girl . , . ." . . 26 
Monte Carlo . . " . . ~. 10 
Lord Tom Noddy . . . 8 
The White Silk Dress . . 20 
The Belle of Cairo . . .10 
The Gay Parisienne . . -5 

The Circus Girl . . . 55 = 307 weeks. 

1897. The Man about Town . . 3 
The French Maid ... 36 
The Maid of Athens ... 4 

Dandy Dan . . . . 3 = 46 weeks. 
29 plays, occupying 858 weeks. 

It thus appears that musical farce has occupied 118 
more weeks than serious prose plays, 57 more weeks 
than serious prose plays and poetical plays put 
together, and 201 more weeks than non-musical 
farce. Were we to reckon along with musical farce 
the cognate forms of entertainment, pantomime and 
comic opera, the preponderance would be altogether 





The Lost Paradise . . . io~\ after Jan. i, 
The Silent Battle . . 3} 1893. 

1893. Man and Woman ... 7 
The Silver Shell .... 7 
A Trip to Chicago . . .11 

(A) Love in Tandem ... 2 
(A) Dollars and Sense ... 2 
(A) The Last Word . i 

(A) The Orient Express, . . 2 = 45 weeks. 

1894. The Trip to Chinatown . . 15 = 15 weeks. 

1895. That Terrible Girl ... 2 
The Girl I Left Behind Me .17 

(A) The Railroad of Love i 

A New York Divorce ... 3 
Alabama . . . . .6 = 29 weeks. 

1896. Jedbury Junior . . . .20 
(A) The Countess Gucki ... 2 

(A) Love on Crutches . . . 2 = 24 weeks. 

1897. My Friend the Prince . .25 
The Prodigal Father ... 9 
Lost, Stolen, or Strayed . . 10 
Secret Service . . . .20 
The County Fair ... 2 
The Cat and the Cherub . . 4 
The First-Born i 
The Sleeping Partner ... 5 

Miss Francis of Yale . . . 7=83 weeks. 
27 plays, occupying 196 weeks. 

t Including adaptations (marked with an A) from the French 
and German, produced by the Daly Company. 




i. From the French. Weeks. 

Trooper Clairette . . . 3 Rafter Jan. i, 
To-day if 1893. 

1893. The Sportsman . . . .12 

* Diplomacy . . . . . 27 

* The Ironmaster .... 6 

* Forbidden Fruit .... 9 
The Great Unpaid ... 2 
The Other Fellow ..: . . n 
The Two Johnnies . . .1 
The Lady Killer . . . . 4 

Mrs. Othello .... 8=84 weeks. 
An Aristocratic Alliance . . 8 
Frou-Frou . V . . . n 

* A Bunch of Violets . . .16 
Jean Mayeux (pantomime) . . i 

* The Two Orphans ... 5 

* The Candidate . . . .11 

* Hot Water 4 

* Odette 2 

The Gay Widow .... 6 

* Dr. Bill 4=68 weeks. 

1 89$.*A Pair of Spectacles ... 7 

Delia Harding .... 4 

* Fedora 8 

The Swordsman's Daughter . 13 
The Chili Widow . . .30 
Mrs. Ponderbury's Past . . 26 

The Squire of Dames . . . 20=108 weeks. 
* Revival. 





12167 weeks. 




1896. For the Crown . 

A Night Out ... 

The Queen's Proctor . 

My Artful Valet . 

Two Little Vagabonds 

His Little Dodge 

A Pierrot's Life (pantomime) 

Saucy Sally. 

Madame Sans-Gene . 

* The Bells i 

On Leave 2 

A Marriage of Convenience . 16 
All Alive, oh! .... 3 
The Silver Key .... 8 

* A Man's Shadow ... 5 
Francillon 7 

Never Again .... 11 = 107 weeks. 
46 plays, occupying 534 weeks. 

Adrienne Lecouvreur was played three or four times 
at the Royalty. A few isolated performances of The Bells, 
The Lyons Mail, Louis XL, and The Corsican Brothers 
have been given at the Lyceum. Mr. Beerbohm Tree 
has frequently appeared in The Ballad-Monger (one act). 

ii. From the German. 

1893. Alexandra .... 
Clever Alice 

1894. Once upon a Time 

* Faust .... 
i896.*On 'Change 









1896. The New Baby .... 2 
Magda 2 

1897. The Children of the King . . 4 = 30 weeks. 

8 plays, occupying 30 weeks. 
Hi. From the Norwegian. 

Here we must reckon, not by weeks, but by single 

1893. IBSEN : The Master Builder . .37 times. 

A Doll's House . . . 14 

Hedda Gabler . . . 4 

Rosmershohn . . . 4 

An Enemy of the People . 7 

1894. IBSEN : An Enemy of the People . once. 

The Wild Duck ... 3 times. 
BjORNSON : A Gauntlet . . 4 

1896. IBSEN: Little Eyolf . . . . 24 

1897. John Gabriel Borkman . 5 
A Doll's House . . 5 
The Wild Duck . . . 5 

9 plays, occupying 19 weeks. 

The fourth act of Brand was played four times along 
with The Master Builder in 1893. 

iv. From other Languages. 

SPANISH : Mariana (Echegaray) . . 5 times. 

DUTCH : Leida (Josine Holland) . . once. 

A Man's Love (J. C. de Vos) . twice. 

Now for a general summing up of results ; and first 
for a comparison of the time occupied by English 
and non-English plays respectively : 




Weeks ; 

Shakespeare . . 97 

American . 

Old plays other than 


Shakespeare's . 70 


Modern dramas, come- 

Norwegian . 

dies, etc. . . 740 

Other languages 

Modern poetical plays 61 

Melodramas . .319 

Farces . . . . 657 

Burlesques . . -33 

Musical Farces . . 858 

Total 2835 


. 196 





We see, then, that the time given to home manu- 
factures exceeds the time given to imported products 
by 2055 weeks, or by nearly four to one. But though 
American plays are imported products, they spring 
from the same root as our own, and are nourished 
by the same sap of tradition. A juster comparison 
would lie between plays written in English and 
plays translated or adapted from foreign languages; 
in which case we should have 3031 weeks to set 
.against 584, or more than five to one. 

As for the alleged preponderance of adaptations 
from the French, we find it a mere superstition. 
Each of the three main classes of English plays 
{modern dramas, farces, and musical farces) largely 
outstrips the total of adaptations from the French. 
We have had 801 weeks of serious modern plays in 



prose and verse, 657 weeks of farce, 858 weeks of 
musical farce, as against 534 weeks of " Parisian con- 
fections." Or, to take the matter from another point 
of view, if we exclude musical farce and burlesque, 
and compare the total time given to English non- 
musical plays, old and new, with the time given to 
English versions of French plays, we have to set 1944 
weeks against 534 weeks, or nearly 4 to i. Our 
dramatic life will never be thoroughly healthy until 
the time given to plays from the French is reduced 
by at least one half; but it is absurd to speak as 
though London to-day were, in theatrical matters, 
a mere suburb of Paris. 

Let us now see for what space of time, during these 
five years, each of our leading playwrights has held 
the stage. I marshal them alphabetically : 



Walker, London . . . 

1894. The Professor's Love Story . 17 

i895.*The Professor's Love Story . i 

1897. The Little Minister . . . 8 = 53 weeks. 

A one-act play by Mr. Barrie named Becky Sharp (an 
episode from "Vanity Fair") was played 5 or 6 times in 

1893. , 

MR. R. C. CARTON. Q^tJmbt 

Liberty Hall .... *>}***$* *' 
1893. Robin Goodfellow ... 5 
* Revival. 



1895. The Home Secretary . . .14 

1896. The White Elephant . . .15 

1897. The Tree of Knowledge . . 9 = 63 weeks. 


1895. Bogey 2 

The Divided Way ... 3 
1897. One Summer's Day . . . 15 = 20 weeks. 


1893. A White Lie ... . . 7 
Sowing the Wind .* , . 17 

1894. An Old Jew . . '. ,> . 4 
The New Woman .V . . 22 

1895. Slaves of the Ring . ; . . 2 

* Sowing the Wind ... 4 

1896. The Late Mr. Castello . . 7 

The Greatest of These . . 6 = 69 weeks. 


1893. The Bauble Shop . . 20 
The Tempter . . . .10 

1894. The Masqueraders . . .19 

* The Middleman. . . i 
The Case of Rebellious Susan , 22 

* Revival. 

t Mr. Grundy's adaptations from the French : 


A Bunch of Violets . . .16 
A Pair of Spectacles . . . ' 7 
A Marriage of Convenience . 16 
The Silver Key . . . .8 = 47 weeks. 



1895. The Triumph of the Philistines . 5 

1896. Michael and his Lost Angel . i 
The Rogue's Comedy ... 5 

1897. The Physician . . . .12 

The Liars .... 12 = 107 weeks. 

MR. Louis N. PARKER. 
1893. Gudgeons t 

1895. The Blue Boart . . . 4 

1896. Rosemary t . , . , .27 
Love in Idleness* . . .12 

1897. The Vagabond King ... 4 

The Happy Life .... 3=58 weeks. 
The Man in the Street, a one-act play by Mr. Parker, 
has been frequently performed at several theatres. 



1893. The Amazons . . . .17 

The Second Mrs. Tanqueray . 32 

1895. The Notorious Mrs. Ebbsmith . 13 

*The Second Mrs. Tanqueray . 2 

The Benefit of the Doubt . . 10 

1897. The Princess and the Butterfly . 13 

*The Hobby-Horse . . . 390 weeks. 


1893. Becket . . . . .11 
The Foresters .... 2 
1893.* Becket 2 = 15 weeks. 

* Revival. 

t With Mr. Murray Carson. With Mr. E. J. Goodman. 



1894. Arms and the Man . . .11 weeks. 

1893. A Woman of No Importance . 16 

1895. An Ideal Husband . 16 

The Importance of being Earnest 1-244 weeks. 
It may be noted that these 10 authors have occu- 
pied among them 530 weeks, just 4 weeks less than 
have been devoted to adaptations from the French. 
It also appears that Mr. Henry Arthur Jones has 
held the stage for 10 weeks more than Shakespeare, 
while the author of " The Second Mrs. Tanqueray " 
comes in 7 weeks behind the author of " Hamlet." 
Let me now present a summary of 



Trilby 34 

Manxman (2 versions; . . 4 
The Prisoner of Zenda . . 33 
Under the Red R.obe . . 32 

The Sorrows of Satan . - . 7 
The Seats of the Mighty . . 5 
The Little Minister . . . 8 =123 weeks. 
Of our leading novelists, Mr. Meredith has con- 
tributed nothing to the stage, either during these 
five years or at any other time, though it is rumoured 
that he has more than one comedy in his desk. A one- 
act play of Mr. Thomas Hardy's, " The Wayfarers," 
* These are all included in Class A, iii. I. 


was produced by Mr. Charrington in 1893, and re- 
peated some five or six times ; Mr. Henry James's 
"Guy Domville" had a run of four weeks at the St. 
James's in 1895; Mr. George Moore has written a 
four-act play, " The Strike at Arlingford," which was 
performed once by the Independent Theatre in 
1893;* "Admiral Guinea," by William Ernest Henley 
and Robert Louis Stevenson, was performed five times 
by the New Century Theatre in 1897; and Mr. 
Conan Doyle has written two one-act plays, " Foreign 
Policy," performed along with Mr. Hardy's "Way- 
farers" in 1893, and "A Story of Waterloo," fre- 
quently acted by Sir Henry Irving. Mr. Barrie alone, 
as we have seen above, has largely and successfully 
contributed to the acted drama. 

I have said that absolute certainty as to the attrac- 
tive power of any given production cannot be attained 
unless one has access to the accounts of the manage- 
ment. At the same time, no one who keeps his eyes 
and ears open, and has any knowledge of the ways 
of the theatrical world, is likely to be very much 
deceived as to the real fortunes of a play. Apart 
from actual information (which must, of course, be 
taken for what it is worth), there are many symptoms 
by which a sham success may be distinguished from 

* He has also adapted from the French, in collaboration with 
"John Oliver Hobbes," a one-act play, "Journeys end in 
Lovers meeting." 


a real one. I have gone through my lists of modern 
plays, melodramas, farces, musical farces, American 
plays, and adaptations from the French (in each 
case excluding revivals), and have marked them off, 
according to the best of my knowledge and judgment, 
into three classes: (a) Genuine successes; (&) Doubtful 
successes plays which had a considerable run, but 
probably did little, if anything, more than pay their 
expenses; (c) Indubitable failures. To give parti- 
culars under each of these heads would be to involve 
myself in endless controversies, if not in actions for 
libel. Therefore I can only state general results, to 
which the reader must attach what credence he 
thinks fit. If my estimate is at all to be trusted, it 
fully bears out my remark on p. 140 as to the amount 
of money wasted month by month and year by year 
on theatrical enterprises which have not, from the 
outset, the remotest chance of success. Of the 
indubitable failures (especially in the department of 
farce) there is probably not one in ten for which any 
competent critic, on merely reading the manuscript, 
would not have predicted disaster with cheerful 
confidence. Here, then, is my estimate : 


(In prose and verse : revivals excluded. ) 

(A) Successes . . 25 

(B) Doubtful 12 

(c) Failures 45 



(A) Successes ..... 9 
(c) Failures . . : . . .13 


(A) Successes 8 

(B) Doubtful 14 

(c) Failures . . . . . . 29 


(A) Successes . ' --. . . .14 

(B) Doubtful . ' ... ...;.. . . .9 

(c) Failures .-.,-,-.. . 6 


(A) Successes . . . 4 

(B) Doubtful 6 

(c) Failures . . . . .10 


(A) Successes 5 

(B) Doubtful 13 

(c) Failures . . . . 1 3 

In sum, then, we have 65 successes, 54 doubtful 
cases, and 1 16 failures; and as at least half of the doubt- 
ful cases must have been in reality failures more or less 
expensively disguised, we may safely conclude that 
failures have out-numbered successes in the proportion 
of two to one. There have been, on an average (let 

* Exclusive of Mr. Daly's productions, which have almost all 
been revivals put on for a limited number of nights. 


me repeat that I am speaking of new plays only), 13 
indubitable successes in each year, as opposed to 23 
indubitable failures. In the department of what I 
have called serious modern plays, there have been, on 
an average, 5 distinct successes per annum, and 9 
manifest failures. Of plays written in the English 
language 60, in all, have achieved marked successes, 
as against 5 adaptations from the French an average 
of 12 per annum, as against one. The neatness with 
which these averages work out may seem suspicious; 
but I give my word of honour that I have in no 
way "cooked" my calculations. 

Here I bring to a close my statistical survey of 
the past five years. Having presented the facts, mar- 
shalling and co-ordinating them to the best of my 
ability, I leave the reader to reflect upon them and 
deduce whatever moral or morals he pleases. Their 
full significance can hardly be discerned until, in 1903, 
we can place beside them a similar statistical state- 
ment for the coming lustrum. Some one, I trust, 
will undertake this task, even if, as is not improbable, 
my own record should in the meantime be dis- 

February $th, 1898. 




2. A MAN ABOUT TOWN : Musical Farce in Three 
Acts, by " Huan Mee " ; Music by Alfred Carpenter. Avenue. 
Cast : Frank Ennesleigh, Mr. E. J. Lonnen ; Ralph Fenton, 
Mr. Charles Cherry; Lucius Light, Mr. E. Dagnall ; Henri 
Lavelle, Mr. Sidney Howard ; Robert Jansen, Mr. Littledale 
Power ; Gwendoline Grova, Miss Alma Stanley ; Edith, Miss 
May Edouin ; Kate Derwent, Miss Grace Hamond ; Nora 
Ennesleigh, Miss Alice Lethbridge. Withdrawn 22nd January. 

8. A PIERROT'S LIFE: Play without Words in Three 
Acts, by F. Beissier; Music by M. Costa. Prince of 
Wales's. Cast : Pierrot, Mdlle. Litini ; Louisette y Madame 
Germaine Ety; Fifine, Mdlle. G. Faurens; Pochinet, Signor 
Egidio Rossi ; Julot, M. Jacquinet ; Petit Pierrot, La Petite 
Gaudry. Withdrawn nth May. Afternoon performances, but 
one evening performance was given on 2Oth February. 

9. THE SORROWS OF SATAN: Play in Four 
Acts, adapted by Herbert Woodgate and Paul M. Berton from 
the novel by Marie Corelli. Shaftesbury. Cast: Prince. 
Lucio Rimanez, Mr. Lewis Waller ; Geoffrey Tempest, Mr. 
Yorke Stephens ; The Earl of Elton, Mr. John Beauchamp ; 
Viscount Lynton, Mr. Tripp Edgar ; Duke of Latinceston, Mr. 
C. W. Garthorne; Sir Thomas Tenby, Mr. George Rollit ; 
Morgeson, Mr. L. F. Chapuy ; Bent ham, Mr. George 
Humphrey ; Ellis, Mr. Compton Coutts ; Amiel, Mr. Edward 


O'Neil; Two Servants, Mr. Philip Darwin and Mr. Lennox; 
Lady Sybil, Miss Granville ; Duchess of Launceston, Mrs. 
Saker; Mavis Clare, Miss E. B. Sheridan; Diana Chesney, 
Miss Rose Dupre ; Miss Charlotte Fitzroy, Miss Charlotte 
Morland; Lady Mary Spencer, Miss Alleyn; Simmons, Miss 
Alice Johnson. Withdrawn 2/th February. 

II. DELICATE GROUND: Comedietta by Charles 
Dance, revived at Terry's Theatre in association with 
THE EIDER-DOWN QUILT. Cast: Citizen, Sangfroid, 
Mr. Arthur Playfair ; Pauline, Miss Lena Ashwell; Alphonse 
de Grandier, Mr. Cosmo Stuart. 

1 8. The Carl Rosa Opera Company began a three weeks' 
season at the Garrick, producing Tannhauser, Romeo and 
Juliet, The Vivandiere, an Opera in Three Acts, French 
words by Henri Cain, English translation by George Whyte ; 
Music by Benjamin Goddard (first time in London), Faust, 
The Meistersingers, Mignon, Cavalleria Rusticana and 
I Pagliacci, Carmen, Lohengrin, The Valkyrie (English 
version, the first time in London), and The Bohemian Girl. 

22. SOCIETY., An afternoon performance for the benefit 
of Edward Hastings, at the Criterion. Cast : Lord Ptar- 
migant, Mr. Edward Righton ; Lord Cloud-wrays, Mr. C. W. 
Garthorne; Sydney Daryl, Mr. Scott Buist;/<?^ Chodd, Sen., 
Mr. Kemble; John Chodd, Jun., Mr. Ernest Cosham; Tom 
Styhis, Mr. Gerald Maxwell ; CPStdlivan, Mr. Charles Brook- 
field; M ( 'Usquebaugh, Mr. J. Carne ; Dr. Macvicz, Mr. W. 
Wyes; Bradley, Mr. Fuller Mellish ; Scargill, Mr. Eric 
Lewis ; Sam Stunner, Mr. Valentine ; Shamheart, Mr. Gilbert 
Farquhar; Reporter, Mr. Lennox; Doddles, Mr. L. F. Chapuy; 
Moses Aaron, Mr. E. Dagnall; Trodnon, Mr. George Temple; 
Sam, Mr. Compton Coutts ; Soldier, Mr. Rupert Lister ; 
Printer's Boy, Mr. Robert Earle; Lady Plarmigant, Miss 
Rose Leclercq ; Maud Hetherington, Miss Laura Graves ; 
Little Maud, Miss Beatrice Murray ; Mrs. Churton, Miss 
Morland ; Servant, Miss Thompson. 


28. THE FREE PARDON: Domestic Drama in Four 
Acts, by F. C. Phillips and Leonard Merrick. Olympic. Cast : 
Webster P. Washington, Mr. W. L. Abingdon; Eric Annesley, 
Mr. Harrison Hunter ; Colonel Philip Annesley, Mr. Courtenay 
Thorpe ; Sergeant Twentyman, Mr. George Cockburn ; Julian 
Annesley ', Mr. Edward O'Neil ; Inspector Pennyquick, Mr. A. 
T. Hilton; Mr. Btinter, Mr. Leslie Thomson; Aitken, Mr. 
H. Delplanque; Taylor, Mr. John Webb; Toomy, Mr. C. 
Dudley; Bates, Mr. J. Cole; George, Mr. Webster; Algy 
Fanshawe, Mr. T. Leslie ; Reynolds, Mr. Dudley Clinton ; 
Steve Pringle, Mr. C. Lismaine ; Ethel Wynyard, Miss Esme 
Beringer; Miss Peggy Flitters, Miss Cicely Richards; Pansey 
Esmond, Miss Carleton ; Mrs. Flitters, Miss Grosvenor ; Polly, 
Miss Merriman; Louise Murray, Miss Vane. Withdrawn 
2Oth February. 

30. OLIVIA : Play in Four Acts, by W. G. Wills. 
Originally produced at the Court Theatre, 28th March 1878; 
now revived at the Lyceum. Cast: Dr. Primrose, Mr. 
Hermann Vezin ; Squire Thornhill, Mr. Frank Cooper ; Mr. 
Burchell, Mr. F. H. Macklin; Moses, Mr. Martin Harvey; 
Farmer Flamborough, Mr. S. Johnson ; Leigh, Mr. Tyars ; 
Dick, Master Stewart Dawson ; Bill, Miss Valli Valli ; Polly 
Flamborottgh, Miss Brenda Gibson ; Phoebe, Miss Foster ; Gipsy 
Woman, Miss Edith Craig; Mrs. Primrose, Miss Maud 
Milton ; Sophia, Miss Julia Arthur ; Olivia, Miss Ellen Terry. * 


Farce in Three Acts, by Glen MacDonough. Tentatively played 
at the New Theatre, Oxford, 25th January ; now reproduced at 
the Strand. Cast : Dodge, Mr. Harry Paulton ; Catesby Duff, 

* Cymbeline, reproduced in the emergency of Sir Henry 
Irving's accident on 26th December 1896, was played a few 
times only, then withdrawn till 2jrd January, and again played 
A few nights. On 27th February Sir Henry Irving resumed 
performances of Richard III. Withdrawn 7th April. 


Mr. Charles Collette ; Tom Breeze, Mr. Charles Weir ; Smith, 
Mr. William Hargreaves; Percy Dodge, Mr. Alex. Bradley; 
Smile, Mr. C. Garth ; Kate, Miss May Palfrey ; Birdikins, Miss 
Lulu Valli, Dollie Bond, Miss Florence Gerard. Withdrawn 2Oth 
March. Preceded by A MERRY CHRISTMAS, an adapta- 
tion by an anonymous playwright of the old French comedietta, 
"Je Dine chez ma Mere." Cast: The Duke of Marefald, 
Mr. Alex. Bradley; Sir Ralph Treherne, Mr. C. Garth; 
Frank Little, Mr. Charles Weir ; Marion, Miss Agnes Paulton ; 
Rose Darling, Miss Florence Gerard. 

Four Acts, by Wilson Barrett. Lyric. Cast: Zoar, Mr. 
Alfred Brydone ; Lemuel, Mr. Wilson Barrett ; Jediah, Mr. 
Franklyn M'Leay; Sabaal, Mr. Charles Hudson; Ahira, Mr. 
Edward Irwin ; Arad, Mr. James Barber ; Hezron, Mr. George 
Wensleydale ; Adoram, Mr. Reginald Dance ; Elymas, Mr. 
Horace Hodges ; Elkanus, Mr. Stafford Smith ; Naomi, Miss 
Helen Bancroft ; Elna, Miss Maud Jeffries ; Cozbi, Miss Rose 
Pendennis ; Tirzah, Miss Nora O'Brien ; Heldia, Miss Ross- 
Selwicke ; Judith, Miss May Yates ; Kiturah, Miss Vere St. 
Clair ; Atorus, Mr. Ambrose Manning ; Mananahim, Mr. 
Percy Foster ; Gazabar, Mr. Charles Derwood ; Parnach, 
Mr. George Bernage ; Sechen, Mr. Norman Jeffries ; Hachmoni, 
Mr. Marcus St. John ; Migdapal, Mr. George Howard ; Jael, 
Mr. Henry Ludlow ; Laban, Mr. Ernest Mayne ; Elcia, Miss 
Lily Hanbury ; Meraioth, Miss Constance Collier ; Sarepta, 
Miss Daisy Belmore ; Melkina, Miss Harrietta Polini ; 
Ibleanna, Miss Alice Gambier; Genetho, Miss Marie Towning; 
Zephathah, Miss Ellen Goss. Withdrawn loth April. 

8. SWEET NANCY: An adaptation, by Robert 
Buchanan, of Rhoda Broughton's novel of the same name. 
Originally produced at the Lyric Theatre, I2th July 1890. 
Court. Cast : Sir Roger Tempest, Mr. Edmund Maurice ; 
Mr. Gray, Mr. George Canninge ; Algernon, Mr. Martin 
Harvey ; Bobby, Mr. Hubert Short ; The Brat, Mr. Trebel ; 
Frank Musgrave, Mr. C. M. Hallard ; Butler, Mr. Williams ; 


Nancy Gray, Miss Annie Hughes ; Barbara Gray, Miss Beryl 
Faber ; Teresa Gray, Miss Beatrice Ferrar ; Mrs. Gray, Miss 
Henrietta Cowen ; Mrs. Pemberton, Miss Campbell Bradley ; 
Mrs. Hunt ley, Miss Helen Ferrars. Withdrawn 8th May. 
Preceded by A BIT OF OLD CHELSEA: Play in One 
Act, by Mrs. Oscar Beringer. Cast : Jack Hillier, Mr. Edmund 
Maurice ; Phil McDonnell, Mr. Martin Harvey ; Jim Dixon, 
Mr. E. W. Tarver ; Paul Raymond, Mr. Cosmo Hamilton ; 
Alexandra Victoria Belchamber, Miss Annie Hughes. 

Acts, by Risden Home. Avenue. Cast : Ferdinand, Mr. 
Charles Goodhart ; Sir William Hamilton, Mr. Nutcombe 
Gould ; Sir John Trevor, Mr. Sydney Brough ; Captain 
Horatio Nelson, Mr. Forbes Robertson ; The Hon. Charles 
Greville, Mr. A. Elwood ; George Romney, Mr. P. Ben Greet ; 
Captain the Hon. H. Blackwood, Mr. C. M. Lowne ; Captain 
Hardy, Mr. Frank Dyall ; Lieutenant Lapenotiere, Mr. Clifford 
Soames ; Dr. Beatty, Mr. W. Pilling ; Lieutenant Nisbet, 
Mr. E. H. Brooke ; John, Mr. A. Somerville ; James, Mr. 
Leslie Norman ; Servant to Romney, Mr. J. Willes ; Servant 
to Greville, Mr. R. Bottomley ; Servant to Nelson, Mr. H. 
Evelyn ; Queen of Naples, Miss Clara Denman ; Mrs. Cadogan, 
Mrs. E. H. Brooke ; Bridget, Miss Marianne Caldwell ; Miss 
Emma Hart, Mrs. Patrick Campbell. Withdrawn 2Oth March. 

13. MY FRIEND THE PRINCE: Play in Three 
Acts, by Justin Huntley M'Carthy (suggested by the American 
farce, "My Friend from India"). Garrick. Cast: Prince 
Maurice of Pannonia, Mr. Percy Lyndal ; The Hon. Peto 
Godolphin, Mr. Paul Arthur ; Matthew Janna-way, Mr. Fred 
Kaye ; Pink Jannaway, Mr. Aubrey Boucicault ; Baron 
Hertzlein, Mr. Herbert Ross ; Shotlery, Mr. E. Dagnall ; 
Ambrose Pinning, Mr. James Welch ; Princess Brunehilde, 
Miss Miriam Clements; Poppy Janna-way, Miss Sybil Carlisle ; 
Pansy Jannaway , Miss Blanche Massey ; Bennett, Miss Toby 
Claude ; Mdlle. Gilberte Picard, Miss Juliette Nesville. With- 
drawn 6th August. Preceded by THE MAN IN THE 


STREET : A Play in One Act, by Louis N. Parker. Cast : 
Philip Adare, Mr. E. C. Lovat-Fraser ; Minnie Adare, Miss 
May Marshall j Jabez Cover, Mr. James Welch. 

16. IL HAESTRO Dl CAPPELLA: Opera-buffa 
in One Act, in Italian ; Music by Ferdinande Paer. Prince 
of Wales's. Cast: Gertrttde, Miss Pauline Joran ; Barnaba, 
Signer G. Maggi; Benetlo, Mr. Austin Boyd. Produced in 
association with A PIERROT'S LIFE (afternoon per- 

1 6. OTHELLO. An afternoon performance, at the 
Avenue, for the exploitation of Mrs. Loftus as Desdemona ; 
Othello, Mrs. Charles Whitley. Preceded by MARY, a 
comedietta, by H. J. Wynter. Cast : The Rev. Edward Selwyn, 
Mr. Frank Dyall ; Sir Jasper TreveJyan, Mr. Leslie Norman ; 
Jack Sinclair, Mr. Clifford Soames ; Mrs. Ferguson, Miss 
Marianne Caldwell ; Mary Selwyn, Miss Edyth Olive ; Fanny, 
Miss M. Aschdale Vicars. 

VIQNOLIA: Comic Opera by F. C. Burnand and R. C. 
Lehmann ; Music by Sir A. C. Mackenzie. Savoy. Cast : 
Ferdinand the Fifth, Mr. George Grossmith ; Count Cosmo, Mr. 
Scott Russell ; Baron Vincentius, Mr. Jones Hewson ; Baron 
Michael, Mr. Earldom ; Prince Max, Mr. Charles Kenning- 
ham; Mopolio VII., Mr. Fred Billington ; Boodel, Mr. Walter 
Passmore ; Herr Schnippentrimmer, Mr. Bryan ; Chevalier 
Klarkstein De Frise, Mr. H. Charles; Adam, Mr. Herbert 
Workman ; Princess Lucilla Chloris, Miss Florence Perry ; 
Felice, Madame Ilka Palmay; Duchess Gonzara, Miss Macaulay; 
Dame Gertrude, Miss Bessie Bonsall; Helena, Miss Jessie 
Rose ; Dorothea, Miss Ruth Vincent ; Claitdina, Miss Mildred 
Baker. Withdrawn 24th April. 

22. MARIANA : Drama in Four Acts, translated from 
Jose Echegaray's drama of the same name, by James Graham. 
Court. An afternoon performance. Cast : Daniel DJ 
Montoya, Mr. H. B. Irving; Don Felipe, Mr. Hermann 


Vezin; Don Pablo, Mr. Edward O'Neil; Don Castulo, Mr. 
James Welch ; Arturo, Mr. Martin Harvey ; Ramon, Mr. 
George Bancroft ; Dona Clara, Miss B. Sitgr eaves ; Dona 
Luisa, Miss Mary Keegan; Claudia, Miss Mabel Hackney; 
Mariana, Miss Elizabeth Robins. 

24. LA POUPEE: Comic Opera in Three Acts 
(originally produced at the Gaite, Paris, 2ist October 1896), 
by Maurice Ordonneau ; Music by Edmond Audran ; English 
adaptation by Arthur Sturgess. Prince of Wales's. 
Cast : Lancelot, Mr. Courtice Pounds ; Father Maxime, Mr. 
Norman Salmond ; Chanterelle, Mr. Charles Wibrow ; Lore- 
mois, Mr. Eric Thome ; Balthazar, Mr. W. Cheesman ; 
Agnelet, Mr. Arthur Deane; Benoit, Mr. Conway Dixon; 
Basilique, Mr. W. Walshe; Hilarius, Mr. Willie Edouin; 
Madame Hilarins, Miss Kate Mills ; Guduline, Miss Stella 
Gastelle ; Henri, Miss Ellas Dee ; Pierre, Miss Carrie Benton ; 
Jacques, Miss Pierrette Amelia; Marie, Miss Kate Hermann; 
Alesia, Mdlle. Alice Favier. Still running. 

25. THE MACHAQGIS: Farce in Three Acts, by 
Jerome K. Jerome and Eden Phillpotts. Tentatively produced 
at the Theatre Royal, Peterborough, 22nd February; now 
reproduced at the Q lobe. Cast: James Grant, Mr. Weedon 
Grossmith ; Gregory Drake, Mr. H. Reeves-Smith ; The Mac 
Gillie Cuddie, Mr. Blake Adams ; Mr. Tadshaw, Mr. Sydney 
Paxton ; Bull, Mr. George Shelton ; Black Hamish, Mr. 
Duncan Tovey; Pansy Verrinder, Miss Annie L. Aumonier; 
Mrs. Verrinder, Miss Claire Pauncefort ; Eweretta, Miss Laura 
Johnson ; Jennie Fergusson, Miss Beatrice Ferrar. Withdrawn 
24th April. Preceded by CONFEDERATES: a Drama in 
One Act, by Henry Woodville. Cast : Amos Hansen, Mr. Sydney 
Paxton ; Dick Burton, Mr. Wilton Heriot ; Henry Leigh, Mr. 
Harry Farmer ; Sergeant Doughty ', Mr. Duncan Tovey; Nora 
Hansen, Miss Mabel Lane. 


I. THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. Revival for one 
week at the Olympic. Cast : Apollyon, Mr. Courtenay Thorpe; 



Fairspeech, Mr. Lance Holt; Holdworld, Mr. Henry Lesmere; 
Thankless, Mr. Roland Atwood; Vainhope, Mr. W. E. Sauter; 
Dives, Mr. Jack Cole ; Pamper, Mr. Frank Macrae ; Graspall, 
Mr. P. C. Beverley ; First Slave, Mr. T. Leslie ; Second Slave, 
Mr. Alleyn Hylton ; Speranza, Miss Anne Beaufort ; Madame 
Bubble, Miss Ffolliott Paget ; Florimonde, Miss Marjorie Christ- 
mas ; Isolde, Miss Stuart Innes ; Malignity, Miss Calharm j 
Mistress Timorous, Miss Audrey Littleton; Raphael, Mr. 
H. W. Varna; Faithful, Mr. Howard Russell; Death, Mr. 
Lesly Thomson ; Giant Despair, Mr. W. Vernon ; Bertram, 
Mr. F. Mansell; Simple, Mr. J. Paul; Mammon, Mr. Ben 
Field ; Timeserver, Mr. Reginald Forbes ; Presumption, Mr. 
Win. Montford ; Sloth, Mr. Wm. Farrar ; Melusina, Miss 
Jennie D. Eustace ; Crafty, Miss Georgie Grantley ; Dame 
Gossip, Miss Beatrice Grosvenor ; Page, Miss Helen Beverley; 
Christian, Miss Grace Hawthorne. 

8. THE LADY LAWYER: Operetta in One Act, by 
G. D. Lynch, composed by J. W. Ivimey. Qarrick. Cast: 
Justitia 7^emple, Miss Mary Collette ; Sylvia Golding, Miss K. 
Adams ; Dick Temple, Mr. Shallard ; Eugene Tripp, Mr. F. 
Walsh. Played in association with MY FRIEND THE 

Drama in Four Acts and Ten Tableaux, by Robert Buchanan 
and Charles Marlowe. Originally produced at the Grand 
Theatre, Nottingham, 1st March 1897. Olympic. Cast: 
Lord Nelson and Bronte, Mr. W. L. Abingdon ; Admiral 
Talbot, Mr. Frederick Stanley ; Admiral Calling-wood, Mr. W. 
H. Brougham ; Admiral White, Mr. Geoffrey Weedall ; Captain 
Hardy, Mr. Adam Alexander ; Captain Lebaudy, Mr. Herbert 
Sleath ; Lieutenant Portland, Mr. Ernest Mainwaring ; Mr, 
Lestrange, Mr. Gilbert Wemys ; Mr. Beatimont, Mr. Cyril 
Catley; Tom Trip, Mr. E. M. Robson ; Old Trip, Mr. Julius 
Royston ; John Marston, Mr. Tom Taylor ; Bill Bucket, Mr. 
Charles H. Fenton ; Joe Appleyard, Mr. Geo. Hareton ; Officer 
of Coastguard, Mr. Frank Stribly; Harry Dell, Mr. Charles 


Glenney; Mabel Talbot, Miss Keith Wakeman ; Nelly Dell, 
Miss Florence Tanner ; Polly Appleyard, Miss Edith Bruce. 
Withdrawn 3rd April. 

10. SAUCY SALLY : Comedy in Three Acts, adapted 
by F. C. Burnand from Maurice Hennequin's La Flamboyante. 
Comedy. Cast : Herbert Jocelyn, Mr. Charles H. Hawtrey ; 
Captain Jocelyn, Mr. W. T. Lovell ; Percival Chudleigh, Mr. 
F. Volpe ; Ulysses Jeffson, Mr. Wilfred Draycott ; Evan Evans, 
Mr. Ernest Cosham ; Jack Buncombe, Mr. Ernest Hendrie ; 
Perkins, Mr. H. Deane ; Mrs. Lambert, Mrs. Charles Calvert; 
Rosie Jocelyn, Miss Jessie Bateman ; Hannah, Miss Doris 
Templeton ; Jane, Miss Violet Craven ; Cecile, Miss Maud 
Abbott. Withdrawn 4th June; revived 26th July; withdrawn 
20th August. Preceded by BYE WAYS: a Comedy in One 
Act, by George S. Payne. Cast : Sir Eustace Carroll, Mr. 
W. T. Lovell; Ebenezer Higgs, Mr. F. Volpe; Lady Spilsby, 
Miss Gheen ; Sophie, Miss Gwynne Herbert ; Martha Higgs, 
Miss Florence Haydon. 

25. THE PHYSICIAN: Play in Four Acts, by Henry 
Arthur Jones. Criterion. Cast : Dr. Lewin Carey, Mr. 
Charles Wyndham ; The Itev. Peregrine Hinde, Mr. Alfred 
Bishop; Walter Amphiel, Mr. T. B. Thalberg; Dr. Brooker, 
Mr. Leslie Kenyon ; Stephen Gurdon, Mr. J. G. Taylor ; James 
Hebbings, Mr. Kenneth Douglas \John Dibley, Mr. A. E. George; 
Viccars, Mr. F. H. Tyler ; Postman, Mr. F. Vigay ; Lady 
Valerie Camville, Miss Marion Terry ; Mrs. Bowden, Miss E. 
Vining ; Mrs. Dibley, Miss Carlotta Addison ; Louisa Pack, 
Miss Jocelyn ; Marah, Miss Valli Valli ; Lizzie, Miss M. 
Clayton; Saunders, Miss D. Fellowes ; Edana Hinde, Miss 
Mary Moore. Withdrawn I5th June. 

OR, THE FANTASTICS : Comedy in Five Acts, by Arthur 
W. Pinero. St. James's. Cast : Sir George Lamorant, Bart., 
Mr. George Alexander ; Edward Oriel, Mr. H. B. Irving ; Mr. 
St. JRoche, Mr. H. V. Esmond; Lieut. -Colonel Arthur Eave, 
Mr. C. Aubrey Smith; Hon. Charles Denstroude, Mr. Ivo 


Dawson; Sir James Velleret, Mr. R. Dalton ; Mr. Adrian 
Mylls, Mr. George Bancroft ; Mr. Bartley Levan, Mr. Gerald 
Gurney; Mr. Perceval Ord, Mr. A. Vane-Tempest ; Maxime 
Demailly, Mr. Arthur Royston ; Major-General Sir J\. 
Chichele, Mr. H. H. Vincent ; Count Vladislatis Reviczky, 
Mr. S. Hamilton ; General Yanokoff, Mr. Richards ; Kara 
Pasha, Mr. Robert Soutar ; Col. the Hon. R. Ughbrook, Mr. 
C. Stafford ; Faulding, Mr. A. W. Munro ; Princess Panno- 
nia, Miss Julia Neilson ; Mrs. Marsh, Mrs. Kemmis ; Annis 
Marsh, Miss Dorothy Hammond ; Lady Ringstead, Miss Rose 
Leclercq ; Lady Chichele, Miss Pattie Bell ; Mrs. Sabiston, 
Mrs. Cecil Raleigh ; Mrs. St. Roche, Miss Granville ; Blanche 
Oriel, Miss M. Hackney; Mrs. Ware, Miss Julie Opp ; 
Madame Yanakoff, Miss Ellen Standing; Mrs. Ughbrook, Miss 
Leila Repton ; Catherine, Miss Eleanor Aickin ; Fay Zuliani, 
Miss Fay Davis. Withdrawn 3Oth June. 


Musical Play in Two Acts. Libretto by Cecil Raleigh and 
Seymour Hicks ; Music composed and arranged by Napoleon 
Lambelet. Cast : Smudge, Mr. John Le Hay ; Oiven Moore, 
Mr. Lionel Mackinder ; The Hon. Fitzroy Lende, Mr. Lawrence 
D'Orsay; Mr. Dingley, Mr. Fred Emney ; Sir Andrew Drum- 
mond, Mr. Charles Ryley ; Bustapha Pasha, Mr. E. Dagnall; 
The Sultan of Shelock, Mr. Arthur Nelstone ; The Vizier, Mr. 
Sidney Howard; Dr. Cathcart, Mr. J. G. Wigley; Captain 
Murad, Mr. H. Foster ; Mr. Marshall, Mr. George Humphery; 
Zillah, Miss Aileen d'Orme ; Mary Montressor De Coursey, 
Miss Mabel Love ; Dot Sinclair, Miss Marie Yorke ; Violet 
Delmere, Miss Edith Johnston ; Noormahal, Miss Topsy Sinden; 
Balroubadour, Miss Maggie Ripley; Hetty, Miss E. Maurice ; 
Florrie, Miss Helene Sevier ; Corrie, Miss D. Temple ; Irene, 
MissM. Temple ; Connie, Miss Blanche Wallace ; Gwendoline, 
Miss Nelson ; Mabel, Miss Wallis ; Capt. Hassan, Miss 
Dudley ; Capt. Calid, Miss Georgie Lennard ; Capt. AH, Miss 
Budd ; Zorah, Miss May ; Lalah, Miss Davenant : Medora, 
Miss Cameron ; Haidee, Miss Erskine ; Dora Sehvyn, Miss 
Kitty Loftus. Withdrawn 3Oth July. 



10. MADAME SAN5-GENE: Comedy, in a Prologue 
and Three Acts, adapted by J. Comyns Carr from the piece by 
MM. Victorien Sardou and Emile Moreau (Paris Vaudeville, 
2;th October 1893). Lyceum. Cast: Napoleon, Henry 
Irving ; Lefebvre, Mr. Frank Cooper ; Fouche, Mr. Mackintosh; 
Comte de Neipperg, Mr. Ben Webster ; Savary, Due de Rovigo, 
Mr. F. H. Macklin ; Despreaux, Mr. Norman Forbes ; Saint- 
Marsan, Mr. H. Cooper Cliffe ; Roustan, Mr. Tyars ; Jasmin, 
Mr. Lacy ; Leroy, Mr. William Farren, Jun. ; Cop, Mr. 
Archer ; The Chevalier Corso, Mr. Clarence Hague ; Canou- 
ville, Mr. Mellish; De Brigade, Mr. Belmore; Vabontrain, 
Mr. S. Johnson ; Jolicceitr, Mr. James ; Rissout, Mr. Marion ; 
Vinaigre, Mr. Reynolds ; Jardin, Mr. Jones ; De Mortemart, 
Mr, Passmore ; Duroc, Mr. Tabb ; Junot, Mr. Widdicombe ; 
De Lauriston, Mr. Rivington ; Constant, Mr. Howard ; 
Arnault, Mr. Innes; Raynouard, Mr. Grahame; Fontanes, 
Mr. Porter ; Mathurin, Master Hayes ; Caroline, Queen of 
Naples, Miss Gertrude Kingston ; Elisa, Princess of Piombino, 
Miss Julia Arthur ; Madame de Rovigo, Miss Mary Rorke ; La 
Roussotte, Miss Maud Milton ; Julie, Miss Brenda Gibson ; 
Toinon, Miss Edith Craig; Madame de Bulow, Mrs. Tyars; 
Madame de Mortemart, Miss Dayne ; Madame de Talhouet, 
Miss Vynor ; Madame de Canisy, Miss Crichton ; Madame de 
Brignolles, Miss Yeolande ; Madame d 1 Aldebrandini, Miss 
Wilmour; A Neighbour, Miss Leslie; Lady -in- Wait ing, Miss 
Davis; Catherine, Madame Sans-Ghte, Miss Ellen Terry. 
Withdrawn 23rd July. 

IO. EAST LYNNE. Revived for a few performances at 
the Opera Comique. Cast : Archibald Carlyle, Mr. Alfred 
B. Cross ; Captain Levison, Mr. H. Gomer May ; Lord Mount 
Severn, Mr. James Carral ; Richard Hare, Mr. W. E. Sauter ; 
Mr. Dill, Mr. H. C. Morton ; Mr. Justice Hare, Mr. Charles 
Wilcox ; Cornelia Carlyle, Mrs. Stanislaus Calhaem ; Barbara 
Hare, Miss Ffolliott Page; Wilson, Miss Blanche Whittier ; 
Joyce, Miss Edith Penrose ; Susanne, Miss Lena Roth ; Willie 
Carlyle, Miss Lily Kildare ; Lady Isabel, Miss Jennie A. 


Eustace. Preceded by POLLY'S STRATAGEM: a 

Sketch by Malcolm Watson, previously played on the Variety 
stage. Miss Lottie Elliott appeared as Polly. 

17. ON LEAVE : Farce in Three Acts, adapted by Fred 
Homer from Le Sursis of MM. Sylvane and Gascogne. 
Avenue. Cast: Mr. Bernard Vaughan, Mr. Arthur 
Playfair; Mr. Lecky Dobson, Mr. W. H. Denny; Lieut. 
Colonel Embleton, Mr. John Beauchamp ; Captain Charles 
Berkeley, Mr. Charles Cherry; Surgeon-Major Neale, Mr. 
Gilbert Farquhar; Major Pomeroy, Mr. F. J. Arlton ; 
Lieutenant Rivers, Mr. E. Covington ; Private John Dixon, 
Mr. G. E. Bellamy ; Mr. Jackson, Mr. Harry Ford ; Mrs. 
Vaughan, Miss Kate Phillips ; Miss Phyllis Henderson, Miss 
May Palfrey ; Amelia Bond, Miss Alice Carlton ; Jenny Rogers, 
Miss Clara Jecks ; Miss Kathleen Metcalf, Miss Esme Beringer. 
Withdrawn ist May. 

17. THE MANXMAN: Melodrama founded on Hall 
Caine's novel, by Wilson Barrett. Revival at the Lyric, with 
Mr. Barrett as Pete Quillam ; Miss Maud Jeffries as Kate 
Cregeen ; Mr. T. Wigney Percival as Philip Christian ; and 
Mr. Ambrose Manning as C<zsar Cregeen. Withdrawn 7th May. 

17. THE QUEEN'S PROCTOR: Comedy adapted 
by Herman Merivale from Divorfons, by Victorien Sardou. 
Originally produced at the Royalty, 2nd June 1896; now 
revived at the Strand. Cast: Sir Victor Crofton, M.F.H., 
Mr. Arthur Bourchier; The VPaque, M.P., Mr. Charles 
Weir ;. Ccesar Borgia, Mr. Charles Troode ; Joseph Popplecombe, 
Mr. Fred Thome ; Reddie, Mr. Mark Kinghorne ; Thompson, 
Mr. F. W, Permain ; Stokes, Mr. Willoughby West ; Gardener, 
Mr. Herbert Maule ; Boy, Mr. Claude Agnew ; Lady Crofton, 
Miss Violet Vanbrugh ; Lady Roller, Miss Ada Sentance ; The 
Hon. Mrs. Pilkington, Miss Helen Rous ; Mrs. Maydew, 
Miss Gethyn Darragh ; Williams, Miss Katharine Stewart. 
Withdrawn 2ist May. Preceded by KITTY CLIVE, 


ACTRES5: Comedy in One Act, by Frankfort Moore. 
Cast : Kitty Clive, Miss Irene Vanbrugh ; Jack Bates, Mr. 
Charles Weir ; Landlord, Mr. Herbert Maule. 

23. DR. JOHNSON: Episode in One Act, by Leo 
Trevor. Originally produced at the Theatre Royal, Richmond, 
nth May 1896; now reproduced in association with THE 
QUEEN'S PROCTOR at the Strand. Cast: Samuel 

Johnson, LL.D., Mr. Arthur Bourchier ; James Boswell, Mr. 
Fred Thome; Captain Alan M'Kenzie, Mr. Charles Weir; 
Mrs. Boswell, Miss Sidney Crowe. 

24. THE FRENCH MAID: Musical Comedy in Two 
Acts, by Basil Hood ; Music by Walter Slaughter. Originally 
produced in London at the Metropole, Camberwell, on 6th 
May 1896. Terry's. Cast : Admiral Sir Hercules Hawser, 
Mr. H. O. Clarey ; General Sir Drummond Fife, Mr. 
Windham Guise; Lieut. Harry Fife, R.N., Mr. Richard 
Green ; Paul Lecuire, Mr. Herbert Standing ; Mons. Camem- 
bert, Mr. Eric Lewis ; The Maharajah of Punkapore, Mr. 
Percy Percival ; Charles Brown, Mr. Murray King ; Jack 
Brown, Mr. Joseph Wilson ; Alphonse, Mr. J. W. MacDonald ; 
Dorothy Travers, Miss Louie Pounds ; Lady Hawser, Miss 
Kate Talby; Violet Travers, Miss Hilda Jeffries; Madame 
Camembert, Miss Lillie Pounds; Suzette* Miss Kate Cutler. 
Still running. 

27. AN AMATEUR WIFE: Farcical Comedy in 
Three Acts, by Mrs. Lancaster Wallis. Tentative afternoon 
performance. Criterion. Cast : Benjamin Barker, Mr. 
Sydney Harcourt ; M. Castelle, Mr. Athol Ford; Captain 
Giffy, Mr. W. Granville Blake ; The Hon. Percy Franks, Mr. 
F. Newton Lindo ; Tom Heavysides, Mr. Fewlass Llewellyn ; 
Lieut. Charles Younghusband, Mr. Arnold Lucy; Mr. Potion, 
Mr. Fred Epitaux ; Stevens, Mr. C. Edmonds ; Binny, Mr. 
Harry Buss ; Miss Halliday, Miss Lucy Roche ; Mrs. Binny, 
Miss Henrietta Co\ven ; Miss Smythe, Miss Cicely Richards. 


27. LOST, STOLEN, OR STRAYED : Musical Farce 
in Three Acts, adapted by J. Cheever Goodwin from the 
French ; Music by Woolson Morse. Duke of York's. Cast : 
Bidart, Mr. Frank Wheeler; Chaconne, Mr. J. H. Barnes; 
Roquefort, Mr. Robb Harwood ; Godard, Mr. H. De Lange ; 
Gaston, Mr. Arthur Appleby; Pacheco, Mr. Arthur Styan ; 
Honorine, Miss Ethel Sydney; Catherine, Miss Elsie Cross; 
Julie, Miss Nina Martino ; Rose d'Ete, Miss Decima Moore ; 
Jolivet, Mr. Hubert Willis ; Captain Latour, Mr. Akerman 
May ; Corporal Bridoux, Mr. Harry Kilburn ; Achille, Mr. 
W. Butler ; Francoise, Miss Annie Godfrey ; Louise, Miss 
Beatrice Grenville ; Eileen, Miss Nora Neville ; Madame 
Delacour, Miss Edith Stuart; Delphine, Miss Violet Ellicot ; 
Georgette, Miss Ethel Bartlett ; Lisette, Miss Florence Glynn ; 
Rosalie, Miss Maud Foss ; Vivienne, Miss Florence Hamer ; 
Celestine, Miss Mabel Daymond ; Balloon Girl, Miss Beatrice 
Hart; Balloon Man, Mr. Charles Crook. Revised and 
renamed A DAY IN PARIS. Withdrawn loth July. 

from Mosenthal's German play Deborah. Produced originally 
in America at the Howard Athenaeum, Boston, gth December 
1862; first presented to a London audience at the Adelphi on 
ist October 1863; revived at the Lyceum with Miss Bateman in 
her celebrated impersonation of the title-part on i8th May 1872; 
now revived for a few performances at the Opera Comique. 
Cast : Rudolf, Mr. E. H. Vanderfelt ; Nathan, Mr. Charles 
Lander; Lorenz, Mr. Aubrey Fitzgerald; Father Herman, 
Mr. H. Gray Dolby; Jacob, Mr. Ernest Bertram; Grophen, 
Mr. William Bent; Ludwig, Mr. H. C. Morton; Fritz, Mr. 
Robert Earle ; Johann, Mr. Robert Farquharson; Kapellmeister, 
Mr. Renton Wills; Abraham, Mr. Graham Heath; Rosel, 
Miss Blanche Whittier ; Sarah, Miss Stuart Innes; Hannah, 
Miss Vera Norman; Madalena, Miss Jennie A. Eustace; 
Leah, Miss Ethel Rayner ; Dame Gertrude, Miss Violet Hunt ; 
Mother Groschen, Mr. Stanislaus Calhaem ; Leah, Miss Grace 


28. THE 5EATS OF THE MIGHTY: Adaptation, 
in a Prologue and Three Acts, by Gilbert Parker of his novel 
of the same name. Opening of the new Her Majesty's by 
Mr. Beerbohm Tree. Cast: Louis XV., Mr. Charles Brook- 
field ; Tinoir Doltaire, Mr. Tree ; Captain Moray, Mr. Lewis 
Waller ; M. Francois Bigot, Mr. Murray Carson ; Sergeant 
Gabord, Mr. Lionel Brough ; Voban, Mr. William Mollison ; 
The Seigneur Duvarney, Mr. Charles Allan ; M. Vendome, 
Mr. Henry Arncliffe ; Comte de Chauvelin, Mr. Gayer Mackay; 
Sartine, Mr. H. W. Varna ; Colonel Lancy, Mr. Arthur 
Holmes-Gore; Lieut. Ferney, Mr. Gerald Du Maurier; The 
Prince Soubise, Mr. Cookson ; The Bishop of Orleans, Mr. D. 
J. Williams ; The Bishop of Quebec, Mr. Arthur Coe ; Renard, 
Mr. F. Percival Stevens; Corporal Labrouk, Mr. F. Macvicars; 
Mr. Wainfieet, Mr. Berte Thomas ; The Marquise de Pompa- 
dour, Miss Janette Steer ; Madame Cournal, Mrs. Tree ; 
Mathilde, Miss Edith Ostlere; Babette, Miss Winifred Leon; 
Mdlle. Alixe Duvarney, Miss Kate Rorke. Withdrawn 
Saturday, 5th June. 


I. MR. SYMPKYN : Farce in Three Acts, by A. J. Flax- 
man and William Young. Globe. Cast : Jasper Selwyn, Mr. 
Sydney Paxton ; Mark Humboldt, Mr. Cecil H. Thornbury; Mr. 
Sympkyn, Mr. George Shelton ; Mrs. Selwyn, Miss Mabel 
Lane ; Mrs. Strickley, Miss Madge Johnstone ; Hannah, Miss 
Blanche Wolseley. Withdrawn 2 1st May. Preceded by 
CONFEDERATES: Drama in One Act, by Henry Wood- 
ville. Cast : Amos Hansen, Mr. Sydney Paxton ; Dick 
Burton, Mr. Wilton Heriot ; Henry Leigh, Mr. Harry 
Farmer ; Sergeant Doughty, Mr. Duncan Tovey ; Nora 
Hansen, Miss Mabel Lane. 

3. JOHN GABRIEL BORKMAN: Play in Four Acts, 
a translation by William Archer of Ibsen's Play. A short series 
of afternoon performances. Strand. Cast : John Gabriel 
Borkman, Mr. W. H. Vernon ; Mrs. Borkman, Miss Genevieve 


Ward ; Erhart Borkman, Mr. Martin Harvey ; Ella Rentheim, 
Miss Elizabeth Robins; Mrs. Wilton, Mrs. Beerbohm Tree; 
Vilhelm Foldal, Mr. James Welch ; Frida Foldal, Miss Dora 
Barton ; Maid, Miss Marianne Caldwell. 

5. THE YEOflEN OF THE GUARD: Comic Opera, 
written by W. S. Gilbert, composed by Arthur Sullivan. Re- 
vived at the Savoy Theatre. Cast: Sir Richard Cholnumdelty, 

Mr. Jones Hewson ; Colonel Fairfax, Mr. Charles Kenning- 
ham ; Sergeant Meryll, Mr. Richard Temple ; Leonard Meryll, 
Mr. Scott Russell ; Jack Point, Mr. Walter Passmore ; Wilfred 
Shadbolt, Mr. Henry A. Lytton ; The Headsman, Mr. Richards ; 
First Yeoman, Mr. Cory Thomas ; Second Yeoman, Mr. H. 
Gordon ; First Citizen, Mr. C. H. Workman ; Second Citizen, 
Mr. E. Byran ; Elsie Maynard, Madame Ilka Palmay ; Phoebe, 
Miss Florence Perry; Dame Carruthers, Miss Rosina Brand- 
ram ; Kate, Miss Ruth Vincent. Withdrawn 2Oth November; 
an intermission in August. 

8. 'CHAND D'HABITS: Musical Play, without words, 
in One Act and Three Scenes, by Catulle Mendes ; Music by 
Jules Bouval. Her Majesty's. Cast: Pierrot, M. Severin; 
'Chand d? Habits, Mr. Charles Lauri ; The Viscount, Mr. 
Enrico Zanfretta ; A Coiffeur, M. D. Philippe ; A Coach?nan, 
M. B. Tito ; A Valet, M. H. Kitchen ; Musidora, Madame F. 
Zanfretta. Played in association with THE SEATS OF 

8. VIRGINIUS: Tragedy by Sheridan Knowles. Revival 
at the Lyric. Cast : Virginius, Mr. Wilson Barrett ; Icilius, 
Mr, Edward Irwin ; Appius Claudius, Mr. Alfred Brydone; 
Caius Claudius, Mr. T. Wigney Percival ; Dentatus, Mr. 
Franklin M'Leay; Numitoritts, Mr. Horace Hodges; Lucius, 
Mr. Stafford Smith; Marcus, Mr. Marcus St. John; Titus, 
Mr. George Howard ; Servius, Mr. Percy Foster ; Oppitis, Mr. 
C. Derwood ; Vibulanus, Mr. George Markley ; Genius, Mr. 
H. Barber ; Virginia, Miss Maud Jeffries ; Servia, Miss 
Frances Ivor; Female Slave, Miss Alice Gambier. With- 
drawn 2 ist May. 


IO. HAMLET. Revival at the Olympic. Cast : 
Claudius, Mr. Frank Dyall ; Hamlet, Mr. Nutcombe Gould ; 
Polonius, Mr. Ben Greet ; Laertes, Mr. George R. Foss ; 
Horatio, Mr. Alfred Kendrick ; Rosencrantz, Mr. E. H. 
Brooke ; Guildenstern, Mr. Roland Atwood ; Osric, Mr. 
Michael Dure; Marcellus, Mr. C. Goodhart; Bernardo, Mr. 
Harold Mead; Francisco, Mr. W. Pilling; Priest, Mr. H. 
Willis ; First Gravedigger, Mr. Arthur Wood ; Second Grave- 
digger, Mr. Maurice Robinson; Players, Mr. W. R. Staveley, 
Mr. Lorton, Mr. Field, Miss Mary C. Mackenzie ; Ghost of 
Hamlet's Father, Mr. Courtenay Thorpe ; Gertrude, Miss Mary 
Allestree; Ophelia, Miss Lily Hanbury. Ben Greet season, 
of five weeks duration ; see also THE HERCHANT OF 
VENICE and MACBETH below. 

10. A DOLL'S HOUSE: Play by Henrik Ibsen. Re- 
vival for six nights at the Globe. Cast : Torwald Helmer, 
Mr. Courtenay Thorpe ; Nils Krogstad, Mr. Charles Fulton ; 
Doctor Rank, Mr. Charles Charrington ; A Porter, Mr. H. 
Davis ; Mrs. Linden, Miss Vane Featherston ; Anna, Miss 
Mary Stuart ; Ellen, Miss Florence Ashton ; Einar, Miss 
Ethel Rayner ; Bob, Miss Maud Evelyn ; Emmie, Miss Alice 
.Scott ; Nora Helmer, Miss Janet Achurch. 

11. SOLOMON'S TWINS: Farcical Comedy in Three 
Acts, by F. Kinsey Peile. A tentative afternoon performance. 
Vaudeville. Cast : Ralph Osborne, Mr. George Giddens ; 
Solomon Sweeting, Mr. James Welch ; Major Lawledge, Mr. 
Charles Collette ; Mr. Pilkington, Mr. William Blakeley ; Mr. 
Honeybun, Mr. William Wyes; Rudolph, Mr. Aubrey Fitz- 
gerald; An Organ-grinder, Mr. H. Barker; A Policeman, 
Mr. W. K. Jones ; Mrs. Pomona Sweeting, Miss Gladys Hom- 
frey; Mrs. Lawledge, Mrs. Edmund Phelps ; Nora Lawledge, 
Miss Phyllis Broughton ; Miss Primrose, Miss Charlotte Mor- 
land ; Nurse Edith, Miss Sybil Grey; Eliza, Miss Alice Beet. 

15. SECRET SERVICE: Drama in Four Acts, by 
William Gillette. Adelphi. Cast: Brigadier- General Nelson 


Randolph, Mr. Joseph Brennan ; Mrs. General Varney, Miss 
Ida Waterman ; Edith Varney, Miss Blanche Walsh ; Wilfred 
Varney, Mr. Henry Woodruff; Caroline Mitford, Miss Odette 
Tyler ; Lewis Dumont, Mr. William Gillette ; Henry Dumont, 
Mr. M. L. Alsop ; Mr. Benton Arrehford, Mr. Campbell 
Gollan ; Miss Kitttidge, Miss Ethel Barrymore ; Lieutenant 
Max-well, Mr. Francis Neilson ; Martha, Miss Alice Leigh ; 
fonas, Mr. H. D. James; Lieutenant Foray, Mr. W. B. Smith; 
Lieutenant Allison, Mr. Louis Duval ; Sergeant Wilson, Mr. I. 
N. Drew ; Sergeant Ellington, Mr. Henry Wilton ; Corporal 
Matson, Mr. H. A. Morey; Lieutenant Tyree, Mr. Lyon 
Adams ; Lieutenant Ensing, Mr. Martin Schultz ; Cavalry 
Orderly, Mr. Frederick Maynard ; Artillery Orderly, Mr. 
Raymond Buchan; Messenger from the Hospital, Mr. Ira 
Hards ; First War Messenger, Mr. J. W. Warterbury ; Second 
War Messenger, Mr. Chas. W. Giblin ; Third War Messenger, 
Mr. W. E. Hyde ; Foztrth War Messenger, Mr. Albert Perry ; 
Messenger A., Mr. G. A. Hatch; Messenger B., Mr. Walter 
Brown ; Eddinger, Mr. James Rickard. Transferred to the 
Comedy, I4th June; restored to the Adelphi, I5th Julyj 
last performance by the American Company, 4th August. 

15. THE HOBBY-HORSE : Comedy in Three Acts, by 
A. W. Pinero. Produced at the St. James's, 25th October 
1886 ; now revived at the Court. Cast : The Rev. Noel Brice, 
Mr. Frank Gillmore ; Mr. Spencer Jermyn, Mr. John Hare ; 
Mr. Pinching, Mr. Frederick Kerr ; Mr. Shattock, Mr. Charles 
Groves ; Mr. Pews, Mr. Charles Goold ; Mr. Lyman, Mr. 
William Cathcart; Mr. Moulter, Mr. Thomas; Tom Clarke, 
Mr. Gilbert Hare; Hewitt, Mr. E. Vivian Reynolds; Tiny 
Landon, Master Atkinson ; Mrs. Spencer Jermyn, Miss May 
Harvey ; Mrs. Porcher, Miss Susie Vaughan ; Miss Moxon, 
Miss Mona K. Oram ; Bertha, Miss Nellie Thorne ; Mrs. 
Landon, Miss Leila Carford. Withdrawn 5th June. 

17. THE WILD DUCK : Play in Five Acts, by Henrik 
Ibsen. Revived for a series of five afternoon performances. 
Globe. Cast: Werle, Mr. Leonard Outram ; Gregers Werle, 
Mr. Courlenay Thorpe ; OldEkdal, Mr. James Welch ; Hialmar 


Ekdal, Mr. Lawrence Irving; Gina Ekdal, Miss Kate Phillips; 
Hedvig t Miss Winifred Fraser ; Mrs. Sorby, Miss Ffolliott 
Paget ; Kelling, Mr. Charles Charrington ; Molvik, Mr. 
Leonard Calvert ; Graberg, Mr. G. Edmond ; Pettersen, Mr. 
J. Bertram ; Jensen, Mr. Alfred Wyn ; A Flabby Gentle- 
man, Mr. G. Nix Webber ; A Thin-Haired Gentleman, 
Mr. Farquharson ; A Short-Sighted Gentleman, Mr. Ronald 

17. Mdlle. Jane May's season at the Royalty (afternoon 
performances) began. Productions: La Petite Fadette, A 
ce Soir, Comme elles sont toutes, Un Mari dans du Coton, 
Le Monde oil Ton s'ennuie, Monsieur et Madame 
Pierrot, Le Pauvre Petit, Les Amours de Cleopatre, 
Les Premiers Armes de Pierrot. 

18. A COURT OF HONOUR: Play in Three Acts, 
by John Lart and Chas. Dickinson. Royalty. Cast : Captain 
Neville Norway, Mr. Fred Terry ; Kenrick Fector, Mr. W. L. 
Abingdon ; Lord Beldon, Mr. Charles Fulton ; Dr. Ashby, Mr. 
Fred Grove; Hon. Tom cTArcy, Mr. E. H. Kelly; Algie 
Leigh, Mr. Patrick Evans ; Dick Marsden, Mr. Walter Head ; 
Mr. Brankston, Mr. Jarvis Widdicombe ; Mr. Craik, Mr. 
Graham Went worth; Mr. Hayter, Mr. Hubert Evelyn; Sarney, 
Mr. Stanley Grahame ; Soldier Servant, Mr. William Brandon ; 
Servant, Mr. Orlando Barnett ; Cora Favarger, Miss Eleanor 
Calhoun ; Lady Meryon, Miss Alice De Winton ; Violet Leigh, 
Miss Nina Boucicault ; Mrs. Carlisle, Miss Marion Bishop; 
Mrs. Bolde>shaw, Miss Florence Hermann; Miss Pope, Miss 
Vera Schlesinger. Withdrawn 4th June. 

19. BELLE BELAIR: Play in Four Acts, by Ralph 
Lumley. Avenue. Cast : Hamilton Pigeon, Mr. Weedon 
Grossmith ; Sir Barnaby Bullingham, Mr. Gilbert Farquhar; 
Garnet Tracey, Mr. John Beauchamp ; V. Francis Strange, 
Mr. Martin Harvey; Jessop, Mr. Athol Ford ; Tipman, Mr. J. 
Byron ; Bunting's Man, Mr. Aubrey Fitzgerald ; Hop-wood 
Tattenham, Mr. E. W. Tarver ; Shillam, Mr. F. M'Donnell; 
Lady Bullingham, Miss Louise Moodie; Vivian, Miss Irene 


Vanbrugh ; Lady Follower, Miss Emily Fitzroy; Miss Harrin-. 
gay, Miss Constance Cross ; Miss Gertrude Harringay, Miss 
Violet Ley; Mrs. Jessop, Mrs. Campbell Bradley; The Hon. 
Mrs. Belair, Mrs. John Wood. Withdrawn 2Qth May. 

22. OTHELLO: Shakespeare's Tragedy. Mr. Wilson 
] Barrett's season. Lyric. Cast : Othello ', Mr. Wilson 
Barrett; lago, Mr. Franklin M'Leay; Cassia, Mr. T. Wigney 
Percyval; Koderigo, Mr. Ambrose Manning; Duke, Mr. Alfred 
Brydone ; Brabantio, Mr. Horace Hodges ; Montana, Mr. 
Edward Irwin ; Lodovico, Mr. Stafford Smith ; Gratiano, Mr. 
Percy Foster ; JtMo, Mr. C. Derwood ; Messenger, Mr. Marcus 
St. John ; Desdemona, Miss Maud Jeffries ; Emilia, Miss 
Fiances Ivor. Withdrawn 2pth May. 

24. ANTONY AND CLEOPATRA. Independent The- 
atre series of five afternoon performances. Olympic. Cast : 
Marc Antony, Mr. Louis Calvert ; Octavius Cesar, Mr. 
Alfred Kendrick ; Marcus Emilius Lepidus, Mr. Leonard 
Calvert ; Sexttis Pompeius, Mr. Frank H. Westerton ; Domititts 
Enobarbus, Mr. Carter Edwards ; Eros, Mr. Michael Dure ; 
Scarus, Mr. H. Mead ; Philo, Mr. H. Hollins ; Agrippa, Mr. 
Jerrold Robertshaw ; Thymis, Mr. T. Homewood; Menas, 
Mr. W. Pilling; Canidius, Mr. E. H. Brooke; A Soothsayer, 
Mr. Heselwood ; Mardian, Mr. Leonard Buttress ; DiomeJes, 
Mr. Croker-King ; A Clown, Mr. H. Stansfield ; Octavia, Miss 
Margaret Halstan ; Charmian, Miss Ada Mellon ; Iras, Miss 
Marie Fauvet ; Cleopatra, Miss Janet Achurch. 

26. THE MERCHANT OF VENICE. Revival at the 
Olympic. Ben Greet season. Cast : Duke of Venice, Mr. 
Frank Dyall; Prince of Morocco, Mr. Louis Calvert ; Antonio, 
Mr. George R. Foss; Bassanio, Mr. Alfred Kendrick; Gra- 
iiano, Mr. Frank H. Westerton ; Lorenzo, Mr. Michael Dure ; 
Salanio, Mr. E. H. Brooke ; Salarino, Mr. C. Goodhart ; 
Shylock, Mr. Nutcombe Gould ; Tubal, Mr. H. Mead ; Bal- 
thazar, Mr. H. Bottomley; Stephana, Mr. Field; Gobbo, Mr. 
W. R. Staveley; Launcelot, Mr. Ben Greet; Jessica, Miss 
Hilda Hanbury; Nerissa, Miss Mary C. Mackenzie; Portia, 
Miss Lily Hanbury. 


31. MACBETH. Revival at the Olympic. Ben Greet 
season. Cast: Duncan, Mr. W. R. Staveley; Malcolm, Mr. 
Alfred Kendrick ; Donalbain, Mr. H. Bottomley ; Macbeth, 
Mr. Louis Calvert ; Macduff, Mr. Frank Rodney ; Banquo, 
Mr. Frank H. Westerton ; Fleance, Master Bottomley; Lennox, 
Mr. E. H. Brooke ; Ross, Mr. Jerrold Robertshaw ; Siivard, 
Mr. T. Homewood ; Seyton, Mr. W. Pilling ; Physician, 
Mr. H. Willis ; Bleeding Officer, Mr. H. Mead ; First 
Murderer, Mr. Leonard Buttress ; Second Murderer, Mr. H. 
Hollins ; Third Murderer, Mr. H. Thomson ; First Witch, 
Mr. Heselwood ; Second Witch, Mr. Croker-King ; Third 
Witch, Mr. Michael Dure ; Gentlewoman, Miss Eleanor 
Tanner ; Lady Macbeth, Miss Laura Johnson. 


formance for a charity, at the Prince of Wales's. Cast : 
Pygmalion, Miss Esme Beringer; Cynisca, Mrs. Clement Scott. 

3. THE flAID OF ATHENS: Musical Play in Two 
Acts; Libretto by Charles Edmund and Henry Chance Newton; 
Music by F. Osmond Carr. Opera Comique. Cast: The 
aGrady, Mr. E. J. Lonnen ; Major Treherne, Mr. W. Elton; 
Seymour, Mr. Charles Weir ; Marlow, Mr. Percy Brough ; 
C? Rigger, Mr. Edward Morehen ; Lord Alfred Fitz Clarence, 
Mr. Cecil Ramsey; Branks, Mr. St. John Hamund ; Sergeant, 
Mr. W. C. Newton; De Belvidere, Mr. Fred Storey; Ambrosia, 
Miss Cicely Richards ; Ina, Miss Claire Romaine ; Maid of 
Athens, Miss Constance Collier ; Chloris, Miss Ettie Williams ; 
Medea, Miss Esme Gordon ; Hebe, Miss Lily Forsythe ; Daphne, 
Miss Dolly Douglas ; Merope, Miss Florence Wilson ; Topsy 
St. Ledger, Mdlle. Louise Beaudet. 

3. SETTLED OUT OF COURT: Play in Four Acts, 
by Estelle Burney. Tentative afternoon performance. Globe. 
Cast : Sir Gerald Delacourt, Mr. Lewis Waller ; Lord Mottram 
of the Pea/,; Mr. Charles Fulton ; The Hon. Bobby Hai-;h, Mr. 


Sidney Brough ; Morris, Mr. Holmes-Gore ; Francois, Mr. 
Wilton Meriot ; Mrs. Alleyn, Miss Granville ; Lady Helena St. 
Quentin, Miss Frances Ivor ; Moyra, Miss Janette Steer. 

5. THE COUNTY FAIR: Comedy-Drama in Four 
Acts, by Charles Barnard. Originally produced in America ; 
first played in England at the Opera House, Brixton, 
*2th April 1897. Princess's. Cast: Abigail Prue, Mr. 
Neil Burgess; Otis Tucker, Mr. Edward S. Melcalfe; Solon 
Hammerhead, Mr. Cecil Elgar ; T'im the Tanner, Mr. Ridge- 
wood Barrie; Joel Barf let f, Mr. Laurence Cautley; Bill 
Parker, Mr. James A. Leahy; Cold Molasses, Running Treacle; 
Sally Greenaway, Miss Essex Dane ; Maria Perkins, Miss Ray 
Scott; Little Tony, Mr. W. Painter; Markkam, Mr. Henry 
Walters; Fredericks, Mr. Charles Daintry; Taggs, Miss Emma 
Pollock. Withdrawn i8th June. 

Four Acts, adapted by Sydney Grundy from Alexandra Dumas's 
Comedy, in Four Acts, Un Mariage sous Louis Quinze. 
Haymarket. Cast : Comte de Candale, Mr. William Terriss; 
Chevalier de Valclos, Mr. Cyril Maude ; The General, Mr. 
Sydney Valentine ; Jasmin, Mr. Holman Clark ; An Officer, 
Clarence Blakiston; A Suisse, Mr. H. H. Welch; A Footman, 
Mr. Sutton Barnes ; Marton, Miss Adrienne Dairolles ; Cotn- 
tesse de Candale, Miss Winifred Emery. Withdrawn 24th 
July ; reproduced 4th September ; withdrawn 4th November. 

7. TRILBY: Play in Four Acts, by Paul M. Potter, 
dramatised from George Du Maurier's novel. Revival at 
Her Majesty's. Cast : Svengali, Mr. Tree ; Talbot Wynne* 
Mr. J. H. Barnes ; Alexander M' A lister, Mr. Lionel Brough : 
William Bagot, Mr. Henry Arncliffe ; Gecko, Mr. F. Percival 
Stevens ; Zouzou, Mr. Gerald Du Maurier ; Dodor, Mr. Gayer 
Mackay; Larimer, Mr. Berte Thomas; Oliver, Mr. S. A. Cook- 
son ; Rev. Thomas Bagot, Mr. Charles Allan ; Manager Kaw, 
Mr. Arthur Holmes-Gore; Trilby O'Ferrell, Miss Dorothea 
Baird ; Mrs. Bagot, Miss Jessie Warner ; Madame Vinard, Miss 
Rosina Filippi; Angele, Miss Winifred Leon; Honorine, Miss 


Somerset ; Musette, Miss Courtfield ; La Petite Noisette, Miss 
Wigley ; Hortense, Miss Langton ; Desiree, Miss Graeme ; 
Mimi, Miss Lovell. Withdrawn nth June. 

9. AN IRISH GENTLEMAN : Play in Three Acts, by 
David Christie Murray and John L. Shine. Globe. Cast: 
Gerald Dorsay, Mr. John L. Shine ; Dorsay Dillon, Mr. H. 
Reeves Smith ; Mr. MacQuarrie, Mr. J. B. Gordon ; Tim 
Kelly, Mr. Richard Purdon; Lord Avon, Mr. T. Kingston; 

Jim Darcy, Mr. E. Fitzdavis ; Daley Doyle, Mr. J. L. Mackay; 
Bill Horsley, Mr. Howard Russell ; Ellaleen Dunrayne, Miss 
Eva Moore ; Mrs. Dunrayne, Mrs. George Canninge ; Con- 
stance, Miss Lilian Menelly ; Katty^ Miss Kate Kearney. 
Withdrawn I2th June. 

10. DAVID GARRICK. Revived at the Criterion, 

for the benefit of the Prince of Wales's Hospital Fund ; put in 
the evening bill on i6th June. Mr. Charles Wyndham as 
Carrick; among his " supporters " Miss Mary Moore, Mr. 
William Farren, Mr. Sydney Brough, Mr. W. Blakeley, and 
Mr. Akerman May. Withdrawn i6th July. 

Drama in Three Acts, adapted from Emile Augier's Mariage 
cTOlympe (Paris Vaudeville, i;th July 1855). Tentative after- 
noon performance. Comedy. Cast : Duke of Macllvray, 
Mr. Edmund Gurney; Lord Ullswater, Mr. Laurence Cautley; 
Sir Vincent Griesdale, Mr. Bell ; Tommy Wickslow, Mr. Willis 
Searle ; Cyril Percy, Mr. Cairns James ; Captain Ntvins, Mr. 
Leighton Leigh ; Lieut. Forsdyke, Mr. Stephen Bond ; Stuart, 
Mr. R. Curtis ; Charles, Mr. A. Furnival ; Duchess of Mac- 
llvray, Mrs. Theodore Wright ; Lady Hilda, Miss Lena Dene ; 
Mrs. Ritchie, Mrs. Rose Vernon-Paget ; Lady Ullswater, Miss 
Eleanor Lane. 

10. APRON STRINGS: Duologue by Basil Hood. 
Terry's. Cast: Edwin, Mr. Eric Lewis; Angelina, Miss 
Louie Pounds. An afternoon performance for a benefit ; put in 
the evening bill, 9th October. 


10. CASTE : Comedy in Three Acts, by T.W. Robertson. 
Revival at the Court. Cast: Hon. George D'Alroy, Mr. Frank 
Gillmore ; Captain Hawtree, Mr. Frederick Kerr ; Eccles, Mr. 
John Hare ; Sam Gerridge, Mr. Gilbert Hare ; Dixon, Mr. E. 
Vivian Reynolds ; Marquise De St. Maur, Miss Susie Vaughan; 
Esther Eccles, Miss Mona K. Oram ; Polly, Miss May Harvey. 
Withdrawn Qth July. 

12. THE RED LAMP: Play in Four Acts, by W. 
Outram Tristram. Revival at Her Majesty's. Cast : Paul 
Demetrius, Mr. Tree ; General Morakoff, Mr. F. Percival 
Stevens ; Allan Villiers, Mr. J. H. Barnes ; Prince Alexis 
Valerian, Mr. Lewis Waller ; Ivan Zazzulic, Mr. C. H. Brook- 
field ; Kertch, Mr. Charles Allan ; Count Bohrenheim, Mr. 
George Du Maurier ; Turgan, Mr. S. A. Cookson ; Rheinveck^ 
Mr. Gayer Mackay ; Tolstoi, Mr. Berte Thomas ; Officer of 
Police, Mr. Montague ; Servant, Mr. Varna ; Princess Claudia 
Morakoff, Mrs. Tree ; Olga Morakoff, Miss Kate Rorke ; Felise, 
Miss Gigia Filippi ; Madame Dannenberg, Miss Laura Graves ; 
Countess Voelcker, Miss Winifred Leon. Withdrawn 9th July. 
Preceded by THE BALLAD=MONGER : an adaptation of 
De Banville's Gringoire, by Walter Besant and Walter Herries 
Pollock. Cast : Louis XL , Mr. C. H. Brookfield ; Gringoire, 
Mr. Tree ; Olivier, Mr. Charles Allan ; Simon, Mr. F. Per- 
cival Stevens ; Loyse, Miss Dorothea Baird; Nicole, Miss Laura 
Graves. A few afternoon performances of TRILBY inter- 

1 6. ALL ALIVE, OH ! Farce in Three Acts, adapted 
from Alexandre Bisson and Andre Sylvane's Disparu (Gym- 
nasse, Paris, igth March 1896). Strand. Cast : Chetwynd 
Green, Mr. Arthur Bourchier ; Judge Bordle, Mr. Fred Thorne ; 
Sir George Burlington, Mr. Gerald Biron ; John Drake, Mr. 
Mark Kinghorne ; Slupples, Mr. James Leigh ; William 
Crebbin, Mr. Compton Coutts ; Jacob Caralstein, Mr. Coventry 
Davies ; James, Mr. Herbert Maule ; William, Mr. Charles 
Garth ; Abrahams, Mr. Claude Agnew ; Clerk, Mr. Percy 
Greenwood; Mrs. Bordle, Miss Phyllis Broughton ; Mrs. 


Crazier ; Miss Ada Sentance ; Myra Wensleydale, Miss May 
Palfrey; Andromeda Drake, Miss Helen Rous. Withdrawn 
9th July. 

17. Sarah Bernhardt's season at the Adelphi began. It 
lasted until I4th July, and included Lorenzaccio, Drama in 
Five Acts, by Alfred de Musset, adapted by Armand D'Artois 
(first time in London), La Dame aux Camel as, Mag-da, 
Frou Frou, Fedora, Spiritisme (first time in London), La 
Tosca, and L'Etrangere. Madame Bernhardt gave an 
" extra farewell " performance at Her Majesty's on 24th July. 

17. OLD SARAH: Operetta in One Act, words by 
Harry Greenbank, music by Franois Cellier. Savoy. Cast : 
The Right Hon. Claud Newcastle, Mr. Jones-Hewson ; Archi- 
bald Jones, Mr. Charles Childerstone ; Simon the Smuggler, Mr. 
C. Herbert Workman ; Margery, Miss Jessie Rose ; Old Sarah, 
JVIiss Louie Henri. Done in association with THE YEOMEN 

26. IN SIGHT OF ST. PAUL'S: Drama in Five 
Acts. Originally produced at the Princess's on 1st August 
1896. Princess's. Cast : Mr. Chichester, Mr. Alec 
Franks; Tom Chichester, Mr. Ernest Leicester; Harry 
Chichester, Mr. George Hippisley; John Gridston, Mr. J. B. 
Gordon ; Fret ley Burn side, Mr. Gerald Kennedy ; Gillie 
Fletcher, Mr. Ernest Wood; Dennis Sheridan, Mr. Chris. 
Waller; Robert Treacher, Mr. E. Carter Livesey;//> Palfrey, 
Mr. Geo. T. Minshull ; Inspector Clarkson, Mr. Campbell 
Browne; Prescott, Mr. A. Rymon ; Amos, Mr. C. Astley; A 
Chelsea Pensioner, Mr. S. Foley; A Drummer Boy, Master H. 
Bottomley ; Cynthia Dell, Miss Hettie Chattell ; Beatrice 
Moreland, Miss Beatrice Selwyn ; The Cotmtess Fellstar, Miss 
Flora Wills; Mrs. Bttrlington March, Miss Mary Batey; Lady 
Snow, Miss Lilian Jones ; Rose, Miss Winifred Eldred ; Becky 
Vetch, Miss Florrie Millington ; Grade Chiches'er, Miss Lillie 
Richards; Aileen Millar, Miss Kate Tyndall. Withdrawn I7th 


28. Madame Rejane's season began at the Lyric. It in. 
eluded La Douloureuse, Four-Act Play by Maurice Donnay 
(first time in London), Frou Frou, and Madame Sans 

28. Vienna Volkstheater Company's season. Daly's. 
The productions included Untreu (from the Italian of Roberto 
Bracco, by Otto Eisenschutz), Die Goldene Eva, by F. von 
Schonthan and Frantz Koppell-Ellfeld, and Renaissance (by 
the same authors). 


l. THE PRISONER OF ZENDA: Romantic Play in 
a Prologue and Four Acts, adapted from Anthony Hope's 
story by Edward Rose. Revival for eight nights at the St. 
James's Theatre. Cast Prologue : Prince Rudolf, Mr. 
George Alexander ; Duke Wolfgang, Mr. C. Aubery Smith ; 
Gilbert, Earl of Rassendyll, Mr. H. H. Vincent; Horace Glyn, 
Mr. Vincent Sternroyd ; Jeffries, Mr. Henry Boyce ; Giffen, 
Mr. F. Stone; Amelia, Countess Rassendyll, Miss Mabel 
Hackney. Play : Rtidolf the Fifth Rudolf Rassendyll, Mr. 
George Alexander ; Michael, Duke of Strelsau, Mr. C. Aubery 
Smith ; Colonel Sapt, Mr. W. H. Vernon ; Fritz Von Tarlen- 
heim, Mr. Arthur Royston ; Captain Hentzau, Mr. Robert 
Lorraine ; Detchard, Mr. James Wheeler ; Bertram Bertrand, 
Mr. Ivo Dawson ; Marshal Strakencz, Mr. Henry Lorraine ; 
Lorenz Teppich, Mr. R. Dalton ; Franz Teppich, Mr. R. G 
Legge ; Lord Topham, Mr. George Croft ; Ludwig, Mr. S. 
Hamilton ; Toni, Mr. A. W. Munro ; Josef, Mr. Frank Dall ; 
Princess Flavia, Miss Fay Davis ; Antoinette de Mauban, Miss 
Julie Opp ; Frau Teppich, Miss Kate Darvill. 

SACRIFICE : Musical Romance, Libretto by Henry 
Byatt ; Music by Florian Pascal. Afternoon performance for a 
"benefit." Savoy. Cast: Pierrot, Mr. W. L. Abingdon ; 
Troubadour, Mr. Charles Kenningham; Rosemary, Miss Ruth 


10. THE SILVER KEY: Version in Four Acts, by 
Sydney Grundy, of Mademoiselle de Belle-Isle, by the elder 
Dumas. Her Majesty's. Cast : Due de Richelieu, Mr. 
Tree; Chevalier d*Atibigny, Mr. Lewis Waller; Due d'Aumont, 
Mr. Charles Allan ; Chevalier d'Auvray, Mr. Lionel Brough ; 
ChamilkU) Mr. Gerald Du Maurier ; Germain, Mr. Arthur 
Coe ; Lackey, Mr. Gayer Mackay ; Lackey, Mr. S. A. Cookson ; 
Marquise de Prie, Mrs. Tree ; Mariette, Miss Gigia Filippi ; 
Mdlle. de Belle-Isle, Miss Evelyn Millard. Withdrawn nth 
August; reproduced, after a provincial tour, 1st November; 
withdrawn 26th November. 

17. FOUR LITTLE GIRLS: Farce in Three Acts, by 
Walter Stokes Craven. Criterion. Cast : Jakel Muggeridge, 
M.A., Mr. James Welch; Robert Raddlestone, Mr. J. H. 
Barnes ; Thomas Tyndal, Mr. W. Blakeley ; Dick Raddlestone, 
Mr. Richard Lambart ; Percy Tyndal, Mr. Kenneth Douglas ; 
Mrs. Humbleton, Mrs. M. A. Victor ; Mrs. Middleage; Miss 
Emily Miller ; Lillie Raddlestone, Miss Violet Lyster ; Florence 
Tyndal, Miss Mabel Beardsley ; Polly Hitmbleton, Miss Dora 
Barton ; Ethel Middleage, Miss Audrey Ford ; Charlotte, Miss 
Sidney Fairbrother. Withdrawn 7th August. Preceded by 
BEFORE THE DAWN: One Act Play, by Henry Byatt. 
Cast : Sir John Radley, Bart. , Mr. Henry Arncliffe ; Police- 
man, Mr. Akerman May ; Coachman, Mr. C. Edmonds ; Lena, 
Miss Mabel Beardsley ; Sally Glibbery, Miss Sidney Fair- 

26. A LABOUR OF LOVE : One Act Piece by Horace 
W. C. Newte. Comedy. Cast : Captain Lord Gayne, Mr. 
Wilfred Draycott ; Captain Gerald Laird, Mr. Cosmo Stuart ; 
Sergeant Phipps, Mr. H. Deane ; Private Hinks, Mr. Harry 
Ford ; Pearson, Mr. Fred Thorne ; Violet Trent, Miss Maud 
Abbot. Played in conjunction with SAUCY 5 ALLY, now 

31. TOMMY ATKINS: Melodrama in Four Acts, by 
Arthur Shirley and Ben Landeck. Originally produced at the 


Pavilion ; now revived at the Princess's. Cast : Harold 
Wilson, Mr. Ernest Leicester ; Colonel Hardwick, Mr. G. L. 
Eveson ; Captain Richard Maitland, Mr. Oscar Adye ; Captain 
Robert Sparrow, Mr. Royston Keith ; Colour-Sergeant Paddy 
Molloy, Mr. John F. Lambe ; Private Mason, Mr. George W. 
Cockburn ; Private Harris, Mr. Fred Boustead ; Ebenezer 
Skindle, Mr. Fred Coyne ; Stephen Raymond, Mr. Frank 
Harding ; Thomas Trotman, Mr. Arthur Reede ; Sir Simon 
Redgrave, J.P., Mr. George Yates; Perkins, Mr. Charles 
Cecil ; Jack, Little Miss May ; Arab Chief, Mr. C. Ferry ; 
Ruth Raymond, Miss Kate Tyndall ; Elsie Wilson, Miss Marie 
Polini ; Margaret Maitland, Miss Ethel Sarjient ; Kate Perkins, 
Miss Fanny Selby ; Martha, Miss Edith Camm ; Rose Selwyn, 
Miss Lily Tweed. Withdrawn 2nd October. 


5. SECRET SERVICE. Now reproduced at the 
Adelphi, with an English cast : Brigadier- General Nelson 
Randolph, Mr. Harry Nicholls; Mrs. General Varney, Miss 
Bella Pateman ; Edith Varney, Miss Millward ; Wilfred Varney, 
Mr. Marsh Allen ; Caroline Mitford, Miss Georgie Esmond ; 
Leivis Dumont, Mr. William Terriss; Henry Dumont, Mr. 
Charles Weir ; Mr. Benton Arrelsford, Mr. Creagh Henry ; 
Miss Kittridge, Miss Mabel Hardy; Lieut. Maxwell, Mr. 
Leslie ; Martha, Miss Lestrange ; Jonas, Mr. Maurice Drew ; 
Lieut. Foray, Mr. Carter Bligh; Lieut. Allison, Mr. T. E. 
Buxton; Sergeant Wilson, Mr. F. G. Strickland; Sergeant 
Ellington, Mr. T. Warrener ; Corporal Matson, Mr. Gaylord ; 
Lieut. Tyree, Mr. Maule Cole ; Lieut. Ensing, Mr. C. Wallis ; 
Cavalry Orderly, Mr. W. Powell ; Artillery Orderly, Mr. R. 
Lovell ; Messenger from the Winder Hospital, Mr. S. Wade ; 
First War Department Messenger, Mr. A. Bliss ; Second War 
Department Messenger, Mr. H. Hadfield ; Third War Depart- 
ment Messenger, Mr. P. West ; Fourth War Department 
Messenger, Mr. A. Kingsley ; Messenger A, Mr. J. Wilson ; 
Messenger B, Mr. C. Crowe ; Eddinger, Mr. M. Mori. With- 
drawn 4th September. 



p. IN TOWN: Musical Comedy, by Adrian Ross and 
James T. Tanner; Music by Osmond Carr. Originally 
produced at the Prince of Wales's Theatre, I5th October 
1892 ; now revived at the Garrick. Cast : Captain Arthur 
Coddington, Mr. W. Louis Bradfield; The Duke of Dtiffshire, Mr. 
Lawrence Caird; Lord Clanside, Miss Florence Lloyd; The 
Rev. Samuel Hopkins, M.A., Mr. Leedham Bantock; Shrimp, 
Miss Claire Romaine ; Hoffman, Mr. Fritz Rimma ; Benoli, Mr. 
Arthur Hope ; Bloggins, Mr. E. G. Woodhouse ; The Duchess of 
Dttffshire, Mrs. Edmund Phelps ; Lady Gwendoline Kincaddie, 
Miss Marie Studholme ; Kitty Hatherton, Miss Minnie Hunt ; 
Mattd Montressor, Miss Maud Hobson ; Flo Fanshaive, Miss 
Rosie Roots ; Lottie, Miss Kitty Adams ; Lillie, Miss Marjorie 
Prior ; Ethel, Miss Lottie Williams ; Rose, Miss Dora Nelson ; 
Edith, Miss Violet Trelawney ; May, Miss Daisy Jackson ; 
Juliette Belleville, Miss Juliette Nesville. Withdrawn 27th 

12. HAMLET. Revival at Her Majesty's, for two 

performances only. Cast : Hamlet, Mr. Tree ; Claudius, Mr. 
S. A. Cookson ; Polonius, Mr. E. Holman Clark ; Horatio, 
Mr. Otho Stuart ; Laertes, Mr. Lewis Waller ; Rosencrantz, 
Mr. Gerald Du Maurier ; Guildenstern, Mr. H. W. Varna ; 
Marcellus, Mr. Gayer Mackay ; Bernardo, Mr. A. Lincoln ; 
Francisco, Mr. Arthur Coe ; Priest, Mr. Percival ; Ghost of 
Hamlets Father, Mr. F. Percival Stevens ; First Gravedigger, 
Mr. Lionel Brough ; Second Gravedigger, Mr. D. J. Williams ; 
First Actor, Mr. Charles G. Allan; Second Actor, Mr. E. 
Murray ; Osric, Mr. A. Mansfield ; Court Jester, Master 
Croxon ; Gertrude, Miss Francis Ivor ; Player Queen, Miss 
Raymond ; Ophelia, Mrs. Tree. 

version of Miss Martha Morton's Comedy, " His Wife's Father,*' 
first done in America, founded on a German Play by L'Arronge. 
Criterion. Cast : Henry Bassett, Mr. James Welch ; John 
Temple, Mr. Fred Terry ; Montague Brabazon, Mr. Lawrence 
D'Orsay ; Byron Brabazon, Mr. Richard Lambart ; Mason, 


Mr. F. H. Tyler; Mrs. Torrington, Miss Ffolliott Paget ; 
Kilty Torrington, Miss Audrey Ford ; Aunt Janet, Mrs. E. H. 
Brooke ; Maid, Miss Dora Barton ; Nellie Bassett, Miss Lena 
Ashwell. Withdrawn 25th September. 

21. THE SIGN OF THE CROSS: Play in Four 
Acts, by Wilson Barrett. Revival at the Lyric. Cast : 
Pagans Marcus, Mr. Wilson Barrett; Nero, Mr. Franklyn 
M'Leay; Tigellimts, Mr. Carter Edwards; Licinius, Mr. 
Edward Irwin ; Glabrio, Mr. Ambrose Manning ; Philodemus, 
Mr. George Howard ; Metellus, Mr. P. Belmore ; -Signius, 
Mr. D. M'Carthy; Servillius, Mr. Horace Hodges; Strabo, 
Mr. Marcus St. John; Viturius, Mr. C. Derwood ; Berenis, 
Miss Lillah M'Carthy; Dacia, Miss Daisy Belmore; Poppea, 
Miss Grace Warner ; Ancaria, Miss Alida Cortelyon ; Daones, 
Miss Rose Pendennis; Julia, Miss Cecilia Wilman ; Cyrene, 
Miss Lawrence; Edoni, Miss Alice Gambier; Zona, Miss 
Bessie Elma; Catia, Miss Nellie Steele; Mytelene, Miss M. 
Brierly. Christians Favius, Mr. T. Wigney Percy val ; Titus , 
Mr. Stafford Smith; Melos, Mr. Percy Foster; Stephanus, 
Miss Haidee Wright ; Mercia, Miss Maud Jeffries. Withdrawn 
23rd October. 


4. RIP VAN WINKLE: Romantic Opera by William 
Akerman and Franco Leoni. Her Hajesty's.* Cast : Rip 
Van Winkle, Mr. Hedmondt ; Nick Vedder, Young Vedder, Mr. 
Arthur Winckworth ; The Burgomaster, Mr. Arthur Percival; 

* Mr. Hedmondt's season of opera in English, terminating 
2nd October; also produced : THE PRENTICE 
PILLAR, on 24th September (q. v.), and HANSEL AND 
QRETEL. Cast: Hansel, Miss Marie Elba; Gretel, Miss 
Margaret Ormerod ; Gertrude, Madame Julia Lennox ; Sand- 
man, Devonian, Miss Ada Davies ; The Witch, Miss Edith 
Millar ; Peter, Mr. William Paull. 


Derrick von Slous, Mr. Homer Lind ; Knickerbocker, Mr. 
Herbert Linwood; Gretchen, Miss Attalie Claire; Alice, Miss 
Ada Davies ; Katrina, Miss Isa M'Cusker ; Gnome, Miss Nellie 
Reed ; Spirit of the Motmtains, Miss Ross-Selwicke. 

4. THE TARANTULA: Comedietta by Mary Affleck 
Scott. Hay market. Cast : Professor McBeastie, Mr. Bran- 
don Thomas ; Algy Golightly, Mr. Clarence Blakiston ; Maud 
Golightly, Miss Beryl Faber. Played in conjunction with a 
MARRIAGE OF CONVENIENCE, now revived after a 

EGYPTIAN BEAUTY: Libretto by Harry B. Smith; 
Music by Victor Herbert. Shaftesbliry. Cast : Kibosh, 
Mr. J. J. Dallas ; Ptolemy, Mr. Charles Rock ; Ptarmigan, Mr. 
Harrison Brockbank ; Cheops, Mr. E. Dagnall ; Captain of the 
Royal Guards, Mr. Cecil Bevington ; M'Ibis, Mr. Court ; 
O'Pasht, Mr. Birtly; Chop-Chop, Mr. Tate; Chopum, Mr. 
Capet ; Simoona, Miss Amy Augarde ; Abydos, Miss Clara 
Thropp ; Myrza, Miss Dorothy Han bury ; Elmina, Miss Alice 
Burke ; Odaliska, Miss Ileene Howard ; Nitocris, Miss Da 
Costa; Cleopatra, Miss Adele Ritchie. Withdrawn 1st 

7. MISS FRANCIS OF YALE : Farce in Three Acts, 
by Michael Morton. Globe. Cast: Frank Staynor, Mr. 
Weedon Grossmith ; Fred Anderson, Mr. Harry Reeves- Smith ; 
Byron M 1 Stuff, Mr. Arthur Playfair ; James FitzAllen, Mr. C. 
P. Little ; Soaper, Mr. Mark Kinghorne ; Vesta FitzAllen, Miss 
Spencer-Brunton ; Edna FitzAllen, Miss May Palfrey; Miss 
Mann, Miss Ethel Hope; Mrs. Chetwynd, Miss Helen Ferrers; 
Cosette, Miss Beatrice Ferrar. Withdrawn 3Oth October. 

9. IN THE DAYS OF THE DUKE : Drama in a 
Prologue and Four Acts, by Haddon Chambers and Comyns 
Carr. Adelphi. Cast: Characters in Prologue Colonel 
Aylmer, Mr. William Terriss ; Laurence Aylmer, Little Marie ; 


Captain Lanson, Mr. Charles Cartwright ; Captain Maine, 
Mr. Henry Vibart ; Mr. O'Hara, Mr. J. D. Beveridge ; 
Sergeant Bunder, Mr. Harry Nicholls ; Lieut. -Colonel Arthur 
Wellesley, Mr. Charles Fulton; A Native Soldier, Mr. Cyril 
Melton ; Mrs. Aylmer, Miss Marion Terry ; Mrs. Maine, Miss 
Eily Desmond ; Dorothy Maine, Little Dorrie ; An Ayah, 
Miss Burdett. Characters in Play Laurence Aylmer, Mr. 
William Terriss ; Colonel Lanson, Mr. Charles Cartwright ; 
Mr. O'Hara, Mr. J. D. Beveridge; Sergeant Bunder, Mr. 
Harry Nicholls; Captain Clinton, Mr. Laurence Cautley; 
P.M. The Dzike of Wellington, K.G., Mr. Chas. Fulton ; Lieut.* 
Colonel Sir Alexander Gordon, Mr. Grahame Stewart; General 
Muffing, Mr. Albert Sims ; Captain Rudorf, Mr. F. Strickland ; 
Lieut. -Colonel Sir G. H. F. Berkeley, Mr. Bulckley ; Dr. Clarke, 
Mr. Stanley Gordon ; French Doctor, Mr. Leonard Shepherd ; 
Major Bertram, Mr. Charles D. Cox ; Captain Clifford, Mr. H. 
Arnold ; Lieut. Orpington, Mr. Sauter ; Sergeant Drewitt, Mr. 
Jarvis Widdicombe ; Private Dale, Mr. Arnold Lucy ; Jacob 
Sparling, Mr. Webb Darleigh ; Dick Cropper, Mr. Jackson; 
Pierre, Mr. Leicester; Antoinette, Miss Le Sage; William, 
Mr. A. Cameron ; Francois, Mr. Smythe ; Dorothy Maine, 
Miss Mill ward ; Mrs. Clinton, Miss Millicent Barr ; Mrs. 
Bunder, Miss Vane Featherstone ; Julie, Miss Haygett ; Mrs* 
Aylmer, Miss Marion Terry. Withdrawn 20th November. 

n. HAMLET. Revival at the Lyceum. Cast: 
Claudius, Mr. H. Cooper Cliffe; Hamlet, Mr. Forbes 
Robertson ; Horatio, Mr. Harrison Hunter ; Polonius, Mr. 
J. H. Barnes ; Laertes, Mr. Bernard Gould ; Ghost of Hamlet's 
Father, Mr. Ian Robertson ; Forlinbras, Mr. Whitworth Jones ; 
Rosencrantz, Mr. Grahame Browne; Guildenstern, Mr. Frank 
Dyall; Osric, Mr. Martin Harvey; Marcelhis, Mr. J. Fisher 
White; Bernardo, Mr. Clifford Soames ; Francisco, Mr. Hubert 
Carter; Reynaldo, Mr. Roland Bottomley; First Player, Mr. 
James Hearnej Second Player, Mr. Elliot Ball; First Grave- 
digger, Mr. J. Willes ; Second Gravedigger, Mr. Leslie Victor ; 
Priest, Mr. Chris. Walker ; A Messenger, Mr. Harry Johnston ; 


Gertrttde, Miss Granville ; Player Queen, Miss Sidney Crowe ; 
Ophelia, Mrs. Patrick Campbell. Withdrawn i8th December. 

13. THE PURSER: Nautical Farcical Comedy in Three 
Acts (produced at Portsmouth on I2th July 1897). Strand. 
Cast : Captain Causton, Mr. Edward Righton ; Reginald Temple, 
Mr. J. G. Grahame; Patrick Brady, Mr. Edmund Gurney; 
Fred Finchley, Mr. Stuart Champion ; Dick Masters, Mr. 
Charles Troode ; Powell, Mr. J. Sebastian Smith ; Edith 
Sowers, Miss Adie Burt ; Mabel Viney, Miss Lena Benson ; 
Mrs. Stanley, Miss Kate Phillips. Withdrawn i6th October. 
Preceded by THE GREEK SOPRANO, Comedy in One 
Act (produced at Portsmouth on I2th July 1897). Cast : 
Harry Quintin, Mr. H. Nye Chart; Billy Thomson, Mr. 
Gerald Biron ; Madame Larissa, Miss Florence Fordyce ; 
Mabel J. Jones, Miss Beatrix Mervin ; Letitia Jeffreys, Miss 
Lena Benson. 

14. LA PERICHOLE: Offenbach's Opera, new version 
by Alfred Murray, in Three Acts, of Meilhac and Halevy's 
libretto. Garrick. Cast : Don Andres De Ribiera, Mr. 
John Le Hay ; Don Pedro, Mr. Fred Kaye ; Don Gomez, Mr. 
Wilfred Howard; The Marquis De Santarem, Mr. A. G. 
Poulton ; Pablo, Mr. Tim Ryley ; Carlos, Mr. G. Vere ; 
Miguel, Mr. F. J. Vigay ; Piquillo, Mr. Richard Clarke ; Anita, 
Miss Emmie Owen ; Mannuelita, Miss Jose Shalders ; Ber- 
ginella, Miss P. Fraser ; Donna Frasqtiinalla, Miss Queenie 
Dudley ; Donna Violetta, Miss Stuart Barker ; Donna 
Bambrilla, Miss Maggie Roberts ; Donna Ninetta, Miss F. 
Archer ; La Perichole, Miss Florence St. John, who was re- 
placed, during the last few nights of the " run," by Miss Helen 
Bertram. Withdrawn 4th December. 

15. ONE SUMMER'S DAY: A Love Story in Three 
Acts, by H. V. Esmond. Comedy. Cast : Major Dick 
Rudyard, Mr. Charles H. Hawtrey ; Theodore Bendyshe, Mr. 
Henry Kemble ; Phil Marsden, Mr. Cosmo Stuart ; Robert 
Hoddesden, Mr. Ernest Hendrie; Tom, Mr. Kenneth Douglas; 
Selh, Mr. Lyston Lyle ; The Urchin, Master]. Bottomley; 


Maysie, Miss Eva Moore ; Irene, Miss Lattice Fairfax ; Bess, 
Miss Lydia Rachel ; Chiara, Miss Constance Collier ; Mrs. 
Theodore Bendyshe, Mrs. Charles Calvert. Still running. 

16. THE WHITE HEATHER: Drama in Four Acts, 
by Cecil Raleigh and Henry Hamilton. Drury Lane. Cast : 
Lady Janet Maclintock, Mrs. John Wood ; Marion Hume, Miss 
Kate Rorke ; Lady Molly Fanshaw, Miss Pattie Browne ; Lady 
Hermione de Vaux, Miss Beatrice Lamb ; The Hon. Blanche 
Rossitor, Miss Lilian Menelly ; Donald, Miss Valli Valli ; Lady 
Lumley, Miss Mary Brough ; Lady Delroy, Miss Margaret 
Brough; Mrs. Andrews, Mrs. E. Palmer; Lord Angus Cameron, 
Mr. Henry Neville ; Edgar Trefttsis, Mr. H. De Lange ; 
Captain Alec Maclintock, Mr. Dawson Millward ; Dick Beach t 
Mr. Robert Lorraine ; James Hume, Mr. J. B. Gordon ; Captain 
Dewar Gay, Mr. C. M. Lowne ; Horace Saxon by, Mr. Ernest 
Lawford ; Jack Sadler, Mr. Albert Mayer ; The Duke of Shet- 
land, Mr. J. Rosier ; Jackson, Mr. Howard Russell ; Dr. Blake, 
Mr. Akerman May ; Mr. Craven, Mr. Edwin Palmer ; Hudson, 
Mr. Edward Shrimton ; Tiirner, Mr. Frank Damer ; Max 
Leclare, Mr. Alfred Balfour ; William Smart, Mr. R. A. 
Lyons. Withdrawn I5th December. 

18. FRANCILLON: Comedy in Three Acts, arranged 
from the French of Alexandre Dumas fils* Duke of York's. 

Cast : Marquis de Riverolles, Mr. John Beau champ ; Lucien, 
Comte de Riverolles, Mr. Bellew ; Stanislas de Grandredon, 
Mr. J. L. Mackay; Henri de Symieux, Mr. Arthur Elwood; 
Pinguet, Mr. Charles Thursby; Celestin, Mr. Ernest Elton ; 
Simon, Mr. George Slater ; Annette de Riverolles, Miss Grace 
Noble ; Baroness Smith, Miss Helen Vane ; Eliza, Miss Marie 
Brooke ; Francillon, Comtesse de Riverolles, *M rs. Potter. 
Withdrawn 6th November. 

24. THE PRENTICE PILLAR: Romantic Opera in 
One Act ; Words by Guy Eden ; Scenario written and Music 
composed by Reginald Somerville. Her Majesty's. Cast: 
Alan, Mr. William Paull ; Brunone, Mr. Homer Lind ; Vin- 
cenzo, Mr. Arthur Winckworth ; Lisetta, Miss Attalie Claire. 



2. LA BOHEME: Romantic Opera in Four Acts, by 
Puccini. Covent Garden. Cast: Rudolph, Mr. Salvi; 
Marcel, Mr. Maggi ; Schaunard, Mr. Charles Tilbury ; Colline, 
Mr. William Dever ; Benoit, Mr. Homer Lind ; Parpignol, 
Mr. Jupp ; Musetta, Miss Bessie Macdonald ; Mimi, Miss 
Alice Esty. First night of the Carl Rosa season, ending 3olh 
October. The productions included Tannhauser, Faust, 
Carmen, Romeo and Juliet, Lohengrin, Cavalleria Rusti- 
cana, I Pagliacci, The Meistersingers, Maritana, The 
Bohemian Girl, Diarmid (q. v., 23rd October). 

2. THE BARON'S WAGER: Comedietta by Sir 
Charles Young. Avenue. Cast: Baron Octave de Geraudot, 
Mr. Sidney Warden ; Clothilde, Marquise de Marsay, Miss 
Edith Ostlere. Also MY LADY'S ORCHARD: Play in 
One Act, by Mrs. Oscar Beringer. Originally produced at the 
Theatre Royal, Glasgow, on 23rd August 1897. Cast : John 
of Courtenay, Mr. Charles Brookfield ; Dennis, Mr. Frederick 
Volpe ; Pierre, Mr. Sidney Warden ; Scrivener, Mr. V. Brock- 
bank ; Azalais, Miss Vera Beringer ; Page, Miss Laura Farrell ; 
Lisette, Miss Katherine Stewart ; Berlrand of Auvergne, 
Miss Esme Beringer. And THE MERMAIDS: Submarine 
Fantasy by Gayer Mackay, music by Claud Nugent, with 
additional lyrics by Charles Brookfield. Originally produced 
as " In the Depths of the Sea," on 5th July 1894, at the same 
theatre. Cast : John Doricus, Mr. Frank Wyatt ; Rttftis 
Mullet, Mr. Cecil Lawrence ; Sylvia Whiting, Miss Ruth 
Davenport ; Marina, Miss Topsy Sinden ; Annie Chovey, Miss 
May Marton; Sir James Barker, Mr. Arthur Helmore ; Algic 
Fitzroy, Miss C. M. Hallard ; Maud Fitzroy, Miss Julie Ring ; 
ady Barker, Miss Lottie Venne. This triple bill was revised 
on i6th October by the substitution of "The Lady Burglar" 
and "More than Ever" (q. v.) for "The Baron's Wager" 
and "My Lady's Orchard," but the season then abruptly 

4. TWO LITTLE VAGABONDS: Melodrama in Five 
Acts, adapted from Pierre Decourcelle's Les Deux Gosses by 


George R. Sims and Arthur Shirley. Now revived at the 
Princess's. Cast : George Thornton, Mr. Ernest Leicester ; 
Captain Darville, Mr. Clifton Alderson ; John Scarth, Mr. 
M. Sabine Pasley; Bill Ahillins, Mr. S. Major Jones; Dido 
Bttnce, Mr. J. Gilston Carey; The Cough Drop, Mr. Harry 
Barford ; Leeson, Mr. Herbert Vyvyan ; Hargitt, Mr. Edward 
Warden ; Dr. Lynn, Mr. C. Astley ; Job Gargoyle, Mr. S* 
Foley ; Whijfin, Mr. Thomas Kean ; Footman, Mr. A. Rymon; 
Marion Thornton, Miss Geraldine Olliffe ; Barbara Scarth, 
Miss Eva Williams ; Sister Randall, Miss May Thome ; Biddy 
Mullins, Miss Blanche Stanley; Maidservant, Miss Ethel 
Rigby ; Wally, Miss Beryl Mercer ; Dick, Miss Kate Tyndall. 
Withdrawn i8th December. 

5. OH ! SUSANNAH ! Farcical Comedy in Three Acts, 
by Mark Ambient, Alban Atwood, and Russell Vaun. First 
played at the Eden, Brighton, on 6th September 1897. 
Royalty. Cast : John Sheppard, Mr. Charles Glenney ; Mr. 
Plant, Mr. Alfred Maltby; Lieut. Andrew Merry, R.N., 
Mr. L. Power; The Hon. Waverly Vane, Mr. Charles J. Bell; 
Flora, Miss Mary Milton ; Susannah Sheppard, Miss Alice 
Mansfield ; Ruby, Miss Bella Graves ; Pearl, Miss Grace Vicat ; 
Mrs. CPHara, Miss Kate Kearney ; Tupper, Miss Clara Jecks ; 
Aurora, Miss Louie Freear. Still running. Preceded by 
A BIT OF OLD CHELSEA, by Mrs. Oscar Beringer, 
Produced at the Court on 8th February 1897. Cast: Jack 
Hillier, Mr. C. J. Bell ; Phil McDonnell, Mr. L. Power ; Jim 
Dixon, Mr. J. Curtice ; Paul Raymond, Mr. R. Graeme ; 
Alex. Victoria Belchamber, Miss Annie Hughes. 

6. THE LIARS : Comedy in Four Acts, by Henry 
Arthur Jones. Criterion. Cast : Colonel Sir Christopher 
Deering, Mr. Charles Wyndham ; Ed-ward Falkner, Mr. T. 
B. Thalberg ; Gilbert Nepean, Mr. Herbert Standing ; George 
Nepean, Mr. Leslie Kenyon ; Freddie Tatton, Mr. A. Vane- 
Tempest ; Archibald Coke, Mr. Alfred Bishop ; Waiter at the 
Star and Garter, Mr. Paul Berton ; Taplin, Mr. R. Lambart ; 
Gadsby, Mr. C. Terric ; Footman, Mr. A. Eliot ; Mrs. Crespin, 
Miss Janet Steer; Beatrice Ebernoe, Miss Cynthia Brooke; 


Lady Rosamund Tat ton, Miss Irene Vanbrugh ; Dolly Coke, 
Miss Sarah Brooke ; Ferris, Miss M. Barton ; Lady Jessica 
Nepean, Miss Mary Moore. Still running. 

II. NEVER AGAIN: Farcical Comedy in Three Acts, 
adapted from Le True d' Arthur by Maurice Desvallieres and 
Anthony Mars. Originally produced at the Theatre Royal, 
Birmingham, on 4th October 1897. Vaudeville. Cast : 
Ribot, Mr. George Giddons ; Vignon, Mr. Allan Aynes worth ; 
Planchette, Mr. Hubert Willis ; Katzenjammer, Mr. Ferdinand 
Gottschalk; Lavrille, Mr. Robb Harwood ; Seraphin, Mr. 
Cairns James ; Chamnois, Mr. Gus Danby ; Madame Ribot, 
Miss Maggie Holloway Fisher ; Marceline, Miss Mary Clayton; 
Octavie, Miss Agnes Millar ; Madame Lavrille, Miss Helen 
Rous ; Maud, Miss Dorothy Drake ; Desiree, Miss Marion 
Wakeford ; Victoire, Miss Mat Marshall ; Julie, Miss Fanny 
Ladbrooke ; Madame Prudence, Miss Ellen Amery ; Lucile, 
Miss Clara Earle ; Henrielte, Miss Madge Deane ; Clairette, 
Miss Madge Victoria ; Blanche, Miss Amy Kensington. Still 
running. Preceded by THE CAPE MAIL, by Clement 
Scott. Originally produced at the St. James's Theatre on 2;th 
October 1881. Cast: Mrs. Preston, Miss Helen Rous; Mrs. 
Frank Preston, Miss Madge M'Intosh; Surgeon-Major Hugh 
Marsden, M.D., Mr. Neville Doone ; Mary Preston, Miss 
Lottie Sargent ; Mr. Quicke, Mr. Cairns James ; Bartle, Mr. 
William Benson ; Mason, Miss Helen Amery. 

in Three Acts, translated by Carl Armbruster from the German 
of Ernest Rosmer, revised by John Davidson ; Music by Engel- 
bert Humperdinck. Court. Cast : The Prince, Mr. Martin 
Harvey ; The Minstrel, Mr. Dion G. Boucicault ; The Broom- 
binder, Mr. Herbert Ross ; The Woodcutter, Mr. Fred Thome ; 
The Elder of the Council, Mr. Robert Soutar ; The Innkeeper, 
Mr. G. Bernage ; The Ostler, Mr. H. Short ; The Gatekeeper, 
Mr. W. H. Quinton ; The Witch, Miss Isabel Bateman ; The 
Innkeeper's Daughter, Miss Hilda Spbng; The Table Maid, 
Miss Lottie Linthicum ; The Barmaid, Miss Neilson ; The 


Broombinder 1 s Daughter, Miss Lina Verdi ; The Goose-girl, 
Miss Cissie Loftus. Withdrawn 3<Dth October, but revived 4th 
December for a few afternoon performances. 

16. THE LADY BURGLAR: Comedietta by E. J. 
Malyon and Charles James. Originally produced at the 
Theatre Royal, Kilburn, on 3rd May 1897. Avenue. Cast : 
George Slumleigh, Mr. Frederick Volpe ; Hon. Flujfington, 
Mr. Arthur Helmore ; Miss Winthrope, Miss Julie Ring. 
Also MORE THAN EVER: Burlesque by the late Arthur 
Matthison. Cast: Sir Crimson Fluid, Bart. , Mr. H. Stephen- 
son ; Arsenico della Morte, Mr. Cecil Ramsey; Kangy, Mr. 
Frank Wyatt; Shambles, Mr. C. H. E. Brookfield ; The 
Avenger, Mr. Brockbank ; The Lady Aqua Toffeana, Miss 
Edith Ostlere. Withdrawn after a single performance. 

21. THE FANATIC: Dramatic Comedy in Four Acts, 
by John T. Day. Originally produced at the Theatre Royal, 
Margate, on 23rd July 1897. Strand. Cast : Isaiah Baxter, 
M.P., Mr. Edmund Gurney; Wilfred Lawson Baxter, Mr. 
Charles Troode ; James Fanshaiue, B.A., Mr. H. Nye Charte ; 
Douglas Stirling, M.D., Mr. J. H. Grahame; Sir B arbour 
M'Pherson, Mr. Lesly Thomson ; Lincoln B. Flagg, Mr. 
Stuart Champion ; Boy den, Mr. J. Sebastian Smith ; Mrs. 
Baxter, nee Mary Varley, Miss Florence Fordyce ; Janet 
M'Pherson, Miss Beatrix Mervyn ; Susan, Miss Lena Benson ; 
Matilda Maudsley, Miss Kate Phillips. Withdrawn 25th 

23. DIARMID: Grand Opera in Four Acts, founded on 
heroic Celtic legends, written by the Marquis of Lome ; Music 
by Hamish M'Cunn. (Carl Rosa Opera season.) Coven t 
Garden. Cast : Diarmid, Mr. Brozel ; Fionn, Mr. Maggi ; 
Eragon, Mr. Charles Tilbury; Granina, Madame Marie Duma ; 
Eila, Miss Kirkby Lunn ; Freya, Miss Agnes Janson. 

25. THE TREE OF KNOWLEDGE: Play in Five 
Acts, by R. G. Carton. St. James's. Cast : Nigil Stanyon, 
Mr. George Alexander; Sir Mostyn Hollingworth, Mr. W. 
II. Vernon; Brian Hollingworth, Mr. Fred Terry; Loftus 


r. H. B. Irving; Major Blencoe, Mr. H. V. Esmond; 
Sweadle, Mr. George Shelton ; Royds, Mr. H. Ives ; Mrs. 
fyanyon, Miss Carlotta Addison ; Monica Blayne, Miss Fay 
Davis ; Deborah Sweadle, Miss Winifred Dolan ; Belle, Miss 
Julia Neilson. Still running. 

30. THE CAT AND THE CHERUB: Chinese Play 
-by Chester Bailey Fernald. Originally produced in America. 
Lyric. Cast : Wing Shee, Mr. Holbrook Blinn ; Chim Fang, 
Mr. Richard Ganthony ; Hoo King, Mr. Fred Volpe ; Wing 
Sun Loey, Mr. E. W. Morrison ; Ah Yoi, Miss Ruth Benson ; 
Hwah Kwoe, Miss Alethea Luce ; Hoo Cheo, Miss Hilda Foster; 
One Two, By Himself. Withdrawn 27th November. Preceded 
by THE JUDGMENT OF PARIS: Light Opera, founded 
on Les Charbonniers ; Lyrics by W. G. Rothery. Cast : Pierre 
Cargouniol, Mr. Homer Lind ; Bidard, Mr. A. S. Winck- 
worth ; Tardivel, Mr. Charles Raymond ; Marie, Mdlle. Ada 
Marius; Therese Valbrezegne, Miss Marie Elba. 


Garrick, in One Act, of " The Taming of the Shrew." Revival 
at Her Majesty's. Cast : Petruchio, Mr. Tree ; Baptista, 
Mr. Charles G. Allan; Hortensio, Mr. James R. Fagan ; 
Music Master, Mr. F. Percival Stevens; Tailor, Mr. Gayer 
Mackay ; Biondello, Mr. Gerald Du Maurier ; Pedro, Mr. 
H. W. Varna; Grumio, Mr. Lionel Brough ; Curtis, Miss 
Frances Ivor ; Bianca, Miss Margaret Halstan ; Katherine, 
Mrs. Tree. Played in association with THE SILVER KEY, 
now reproduced after a provincial tour. 

I. THE FIRST-BORN: Chinese Play in Two Acts, 
by Francis Powers. Originally produced in New York. 
Globe. Cast : Loey Tsing, Miss May Buckley ; Cho Pow, 
Miss Nellie Cummins ; Chan Lee, Miss Carrie E. Powers ; 
Dactor Pow Len, Mr. George Osborne ; Chan Wang, Mr. 
Francis Powers ; Hop Kee, Mr. J. H. Benrimo ; Chum Woe, 



Mr. Harry Spear ; Kwa Kee, Mr. John Armstrong ; Duck Low, 
Mr. George Fullerton ; Sum Chow, Mr. Harry Levian ; A 
Chinese Rag-picker, Mr. Walter Belasco ; A Provision Dealer, 
Fong Get; Chan Toy, Miss Vennie Wells; Way Get, Mr. 
Joseph Silverstone ; Tourists, Ysobel Haskins, Florence Hever- 
leigh, L. J. Fuller, Hugo Toland. Withdrawn 6th November. 
Preceded by A NIGHT SESSION : Farce, adapted from 
the French of Georges Feydeau. Cast : Gentillac, Mr. Percy 
Lyndal ; Fauconnet, Mr. J. R. Crauford ; Joseph, Mr. W. H. 
Day ; Rigolin, Mr. Robert Castleton ; Clarisse, Miss Helen 
Fordyce ; Artemise, Miss May Protheroe ; Emelie Bonbouche, 
Miss Maude Vernon ; Emelie, Miss Keith Kave. 

4. THE VAGABOND KING: Play in Four Acts, by 
Louis N. Parker. First played at the Metropole, October ; 
now produced at the Court. Cast : Don Pedro XIV., Mr. 
Murray Carson ; Pandolfo, Mr. Herbert H. Ross ; Don Miguel 
de Santa Rosa y Partiro, Mr. Gilbert Farquhar ; Marchese d} 
Castelverano, Mr. Lawrence D'Orsay ; Chevalier Moffat, Mr. 
Sidney Brough ; Monsiegneur, Mr. Fred Grove ; Benito, Mr. 
Lewin Mannering ; One-Eyed Sammy, Mr. Athol Forde ; 
Donna Pta, Miss Bateman (Mrs. Crowe) ; Stella Desmond, 
Miss Lena Ashvvell ; Princess Zea of Santorin, Miss Ellis 
Jeffreys ; Lady Violet, Miss Ethel Verne ; Mrs. IVallis, Mrs. 
Leigh. Withdrawn 27th November. 

6. THE LITTLE MINISTER: Play in Four Acts, 
by J. M. Barrie ; founded on his novel of the same name. 
Haymarket. Cast: The Earl of Itintoul, Mr. W. G. 
Elliot; The Rev. Gavin Dishart, Mr. Cyril Maude; Captain 
Halliwell, Mr. C. M. Hallard ; Thomas Whamond, Mr. 
Brandon Thomas ; Snecky Hobarl, Mr. Mark Kinghorne ; 
Silva Tosh, Mr. F. H. Tyler; Andrew Mealmaker, Mr. E. 
Holman Clark ; Rob Dow, Mr. Sidney Valentine ; Micah 
Dow, Miss Sidney Fairbrother ; Jow Cruickshanks, Mr. 
Eardley Turner ; Sergeant Davidson, Mr. Clarence Blakiston ; 
Thwaites, Mr. H. H. Welch ; Nannie Webster, Mrs. E. H. 
Brooke ; Felice, Miss Nina Cadiz; Jean, Miss Mary Mackenzie; 


Lady Babbie (Lord RintouFs daughter), Miss Winifred Emery. 
Still running. 

II. THE OTHER WOMAN: Duologue, by Miss Ellis 
Kingsley. Afternoon performance for the benefit of the Actors' 
Association. Her Majesty's. Cast : Silvia, Miss Winifred 
Emery; Enid, Miss Esme Beringer. 

16. 1L PICCOLO HAYDN: Lyric Opera in One Act, 
by Antonio Cipollini; composed by Gaetano Cipollini. Lyric. 
Cast : Gtiiseppe Haydn, Miss Marie Elba ; Mariana, Madame 
Julia Lennox ; Annoletta, Miss Marie Titiens ; Nicolo Porpora, 
Mr. W. H. Stevens ; Count Kaunitz, Mr. A. S. Winckworth. 
Played in association with THE CAT AND THE 

17. THE SCARLET FEATHER: Comic Opera in 
Two Acts, adapted from La Petite Mariee, by MM. Leter- 
rier and Vanloo, by Harry Greenbank ; Music by Charles 
Lecocq. Shaftesbury. Cast: Rudolph, Mr. E. C. Hed- 
mondt; San Carlo, Mr. Joseph Tapley ; The Marquis of Sassari, 
Mr. G. H. Snazelle ; Dr. Alphonse, Mr. Thos. Q. Seabrookc; 
Grimaldi, Mr. C. Lawrence ; Marie, Miss Nellie Stewart ; 
Renee, Miss Decima Moore ; Felicia, Miss M. A. Victor ; 
Marcelle, Miss Florence Young. Still running. 

24. SECRET SERVICE: Drama in Four Acts, by 
William Gillette. Revived at the Adelphi. Cast : Genera? 
Nelson Randolph, Mr. Harry Nicholls ; Mrs. General Varney, 
Miss Bella Pateman ; Edith Varney, Miss Millward ; Wilfred 
Varney, Mr. Marsh Allan ; Caroline Mitford, Miss Georgie 
Esmond; Lewis Dumont, Mr. William Terriss; Henry Dumont, 
Mr. Stanley Wade; Mr. Benton Arrelsford, Mr. Creagh 
Henry; Miss Kittridge, Miss Olive Haygate; Lieut. Maxwell, 
Mr. Frederick Lane ; Martha, Miss Lestrange ; Jonas, Mr. 
Maurice Drew; Lieut. Foray, Mr. Carter Bligh; Lieut. Allison, 
Mr. T. E. Buxton; Sergeant Wilson, Mr. F. G. Strickland; 
Sergeant Ellington, Mr. T. Warrener ; Corporal Matson, Mr. 


Gaylord ; Lieut. Tyree, Mr. Maule Cole ; Lieut. Ensing, 
Mr. C. Wallis ; Cavalry Orderly, Mr. W. Powell ; Artillery 
Orderly, Mr. R. Lovell; Messenger from Hospital, Mr. Wilkin- 
son ; First War Messenger, Mr. A. Bliss; Second War 
Messenger, Mr. H. Hadfield; Third War Messenger, Mr. 
Pollard ; Fourth War Messenger, Mr. A. Kingsley ; Messenger 
A. ^ Mr. J. Wilson ; Messenger B. , Mr. C. Crowe ; Eddinger, 
Mr. M. Mori. Withdrawn i6th December (when Mr. William 
Terriss was murdered). 

25. FROLICSOME FANNY: Farce in Three Acts, by 
Alfred C. Calmour. Tentative afternoon performance. Gaiety. 
Cast : Samuel Hazzard, Mr. Arthur Williams ; Saville Erskine, 
Mr. L. Mackinder; Paiil Trench, Mr. Edmund Gurney; Lord 
Harold Craven, Mr. E. H. Kelly ; The Rev. Matthew Marry- 
dew, Mr. Robert Nainby; Warrant Officer, Mr. A. C. Hardie ; 
Bowker, Master J. Bottomley; Caroline Hazzard, Miss Emily 
Thome ; Muriel Erskine, Miss Nina Boucicault ; Zamora 
Hastings, Miss Rose Dearing ; Penelope Quelck, Miss Sophie 

27. A MAN'S SHADOW: Play adapted by Robert 
Buchanan from Roger la Honte, by Jules Mary and Georges 
Grisier. Originally produced at the Haymarket on I2th 
September 1889; now revived at Her Majesty's. Cast:. 
Lticien Laroque and Luversan, Mr. Tree ; Raymond de Noir- 
ville, Mr. Lewis Waller ; M. Gerbier, Mr. S. A. Cookson ; 
Picolet, Mr. Lionel Brough; Tristot, Mr. E. M. Robson; Jean 
Ricordot, Mr. Gerald Du Maurier ; President of the Court,., 
Mr. Charles G. Allan ; Advocate- General, Mr. Gayer Mackay j 
Lacroix, Mr. F. Percival Stevens ; Usher, Mr. James B. Favan; 
Valet, Mr. H. W. Varna; Officer, Mr. D. J. Williams; 
Henriette, Mrs. Tree ; Suzanne, Miss Dorrie Harris ; Victoirej 
Miss Winifred Leon ; Julie, Miss Lily Hanbury. Still running. 

29. ADMIRAL GUINEA: Play in Four Acts, by 
William Ernest Henley and Robert Louis Stevenson. Five- 
afternoon performances organised by the New Century Theatre., 


Avenue. Cast: John Gaunt, Mr. William Mollison ; Are- 
thusu Gaunt, Miss Cissie Loftus ; David Pew, Mr; Sidney 
Valentine ; Kit French, Mr. Robert Lorraine ; Mrs. Drake, 
Miss Dolores Drummond. Preceded by HONESTY, A 
COTTAGE FLOWER: Play in One Act, by Margaret 
Young. Cast : Clorinda Anne, Miss Kate Rdrke ; Wentiuorlh, 
-Mr. S. A. Cookson ; Lucy Kingston, Miss Una Cockerell ; 
Tom, Mr. Ridgewood Barrie. 

30. A NEW LEAF: Domestic Play in One Act,- by 
Herbert Darnley. ' Royalty. Cast: Lord Annerty, 'Mr. 
Charles J. Bell; Lady Annerly, Miss Grace Vicat ; Tottie 
Evans, Miss Mabel Beardsley ; Parker, Mr. Harry Parker. 
--Produced in association with OH! SUSANNAH! but 
only played a few times. 


4. THE GRAND DUCHESS: Comic Opera, Lyrics 
by Adrian Ross; Dialogue by Charles H. Brookfield; Com- 
posed by Offenbach. Originally produced in Paris in 1867. 
Savoy . Cast : The Grand Duchess of Gerolstein, Miss Florence 
St. John; Wanda, Miss Florence Perry; Fritz, Mr. Charles 
Kenningham ; Prince Paul, Mr. Henry A. Lyttoh ; Baron 
Ptick, Mr. William Elton ; Nepomuc, Mr. George Humphery ; 
General Boom, Mr. Walter Passmore ; Baron Grog, Mr. C. H. 
E. Brookfield ; Carl, Mr. C. H. Workman ; Col. Marcobruhner, 
Mr. Scott Fishe ; Capt. Hocheim, Mr. Jones Hewson ; Lieut. 
'Nier stein, Mr. Cory James ; Iza, Miss Ruth Vincent ; Olga, 
Miss Mildred Baker ; Amelie, Miss Jessie Rose ; Charlotte, 
Miss Beatrice Perry. Still running. 


Musical Comedy in Two Acts, by Basil Hood ; Music by Walter 
Slaughter. Originally produced at the Opera House, Belfast, 
23rd August 1897 ; now reproduced at the Lyric. Cast : 
Dandy Dan, Mr. Arthur Roberts ; The Earl of Capercailzie, 
Mr. Blake Adams ; Roderick Ptarmigan, Mr. Frank " Barclay; 


Robert White, Mr. W. H. Denny, Mr. Wheeler, Mr. Arnold 
Lucy; Ben Smith, Mr. Steve Blamphin ; Trumpeter Tom, 
Miss Rose Seymour; Donald, Mr. F. Gremlin; Colin, Mr. 
George E. Bellamy; James, Mr. George A. Hoghland ; Henry, 
Miss Maud Mason; Inspector Grigg, Mr. William Birch; 
Drummer Jones, Miss Elsie Lanoma ; Lady Margaret Ptarmi- 
gan, Miss Kate Erskine ; Lady Cicely Ptarmigan, Miss Mabel 
Hensey \ Lady Mabel Ptarmigan, Miss Maud Stanley ; Lady 
Letty Ptarmigan, Miss Frances Balfour ; Mrs. Smith, Miss Jane 
Grey ; Lady Bulwarks, Miss Ella Essington ; The Hon. Made- 
leine Lee-Scupper, Miss Hilda Trevernor ; The Hon. Miiriel 
Lee-Scupper, Miss Violet Foulton ; Kate, Miss Hilda Crosse; 
Barbara, Miss Violet Dalrymple ; Mary, Miss Isa Bowman ; 
Lady Catherine Wheeler, Miss Phyllis Broughton. Still running. 

6. THE HAPPY LIFE : Comedy in Three Acts, by Louis 
N. Parker. Duke of York's. Cast : Cyril Charteris, Mr. 
Frederick Kerr ; John Charteris, Mr. John Beauchamp ; Prince 
Szczepanowski, Mr. Arthur Elwood; Dicky Smith, Mr. 
Hermann Vezin ; Jimmy Pastor, Mr. Sydney Brough ; Harold 
Boughton, Mr. W. Scott Buist ; Vyvyan Pettigre-w-Smith, 
Mr. Aubrey Fitzgerald ; A Waiter, Mr. W. P. Warren-Smith; 
Carter, Mr. John W. Laurence ; Mrs. Pettigrew-Smith, Miss 
Frances Ivor ; Maggie, Miss Henrietta Watson ; Halcyon 
Charteris, Miss Carlotta Nillson; Phinkett, Miss Campbell- 
Bradley ; A Temple Laundress, Miss Henrietta Cowen ; Evelyn, 
Miss Dorothea Baird. Still running. 

6. THE TRIPLE ALLIANCE : Farcical Comedy in 
Three Acts, by W. S. Beadle. Originally produced at the 
Opera House, Chatham, on 26th April 1897, under the title of 
"Poor Tommy"; now reproduced (a tentative afternoon per- 
formance) at the Strand. Cast : Colonel Hobbes, Mr. Thomas 
Thome ; Jack Walmesky, Mr. Charles Thursby; Fred Walker, 
Mr. Frank Gillmore ; Thomas Eversleigh, Mr. Fred Thome ; 
Hector Popple, Mr. George Thome; Shadrack, Mr. Douglas 
Berry; Henry, Mr. Algernon Newark; Policeman, Mr. Graham 
Herington ; Miss Matilda Rowley, Miss Kate Phillips ; Edith, 


Miss Mary Allestree ; Cicely ', Miss Alice De Winton ; Miss 
Popple, Miss Emily Thome. 

from Hans Andersen arranged for the stage by Basil Hood ; 
Music by Walter Slaughter. Afternoon performances at Terry's. 
Casts: Big Claus Big Clatis, Mr. Wyndham Guise; The 
Sexton, Mr. Eric Lewis ; The Drover, Mr. J. W. MacDonald ; 
The Farmer's Wife, Miss Alice Barth ; Little Clatts, Mr. Murray 
King ; The Farmer, Mr. Metcalfe ; The Old Grandmother, Mr. 
Bert Sinden ; Gretchen, Miss Rowena Curtice. The Princess 
The Emperor, Mr. H. O. Clarey ; The Lord Chamberlain, Mr. 
Barton De Solla ; The Royal Footman, Mr. Percy Percival ; 
The Royal Tailor, Mr. Murray King ; The Royal Physician, 
Mr. J. W. MacDonald ; Professor of the Ologies, Mr. Alfred 
Vine ; The Royal Governess, Miss Alice Barth ; The Prince, 
Miss Louie Pounds ; The Royal Btitler, Mr. Sterling ; The 
Royal Buttons, Miss May Yates ; The Royal Valet, Mr. 
Oades; The Chief Swineherd, Mr. Metcalfe; Professor of the 
Ographies, Mr. Bert Sinden; The New Nurse, Miss Louie 
West; The Princess, Miss Kitty Loftus. The Soldier 
His Majesty the King, Mr. Eric Lewis ; Her Majesty the 
Queen, Miss Lillie Pounds ; The Prime Minister, Mr. Percy 
Percival ; The Soldier, Mr. Joseph Wilson ; The Mayor, Mr. 
H. O. Clarey ; The Witch, Mr. Murray King ; The Dog with 
the Great Big Eyes, Mr. Henry E. Garrod ; 7 he Dog with 
Greater Bigger Eyes, Mr. Bert Sinden ; The Dog with the 
Greatest Biggest Eyes, Mr. Alfred Vine; The Mechanical 
Soldiers, Mr. Wyndham Guise, Mr. J. W. MacDonald; The 
Executioner t Mr. Garton; The Herald, Mr. Sterling; H.R.H. 
The Princess, Miss Louie Pounds. Still running. 

by Tom Taylor. Revived at the Comedy. Cast: Colonel 
Percy Kirke, Mr. Henry Kemble; Colonel Lord Churchill, 
Mr. Wilfred Draycott ; Kester Chedzoy, Mr. Ernest Hendrie ; 


John Zoylahd, Mr. Ernest Cosham ; Corporal Flintoff, Mr. H. 
Stephenson ; Hackett, Mr. H. Ford ; Master Jasper .Careiv, 
Mr. Henry Neville ; Dame Carew, Miss Florence Hayden ; 
Sibyl, Miss Dorothy Raymonde ; Keziah Mapletoft, ,Miss 
Beatrice Ferrar ; Anne Carew, Mrs. Bernard Beere. Produced 
in association with ONE SUMMER'S DAY. 

27. HOW LONDON LIVES: Melodrama in Five Acts, 
adapted by Martyn Field and Arthur Shirley from Le Camelot 
of Paul Andry, Max Maurey, and Georges Jubin. Princess's. 
Cast: Jack Ferrers, Mr. Charles Warner; Col. Sir George 
Ferrers, Bart. , Mr. Charles Garry ; Stephen Grainger, Mr. 
Oscar Adye ; Lieutenant Harry Maxwell, Mr. Stephen T. 
Ewart ; Billy Tigser, Mr. Herbert Vyvyan; Crumpets, Mr. 
F. Walford ; Snitch, Mr. Chris Walker ; The Microbe, Mr. 
J. H. Bishop ; Benson, Mr. Alfred Phillips ; Sergeant of Police, 
Mr. A. Rymon ; Pawnbroker, Mr. S. Major Jones; Sandy 
M'Grab, Mr. W. Getston Carey; Inspector of Police, Mr. 
Thomas Kean ; Bertie, Mr. Harry Barford ; Gussie, Mr. E. 
Warden; First Reporter, Mr. C. Astley; Second Reporter, 
Mr. S. Foley ; Drunken Gent, Mr. Sam Fearney ; Boy, Maste* 
Alfred Rose ; Police Constable, Mr. Aubrey ; Lady Ferrers, 
Miss Geraldine Olliffe ; Molly Crockett, Miss Mary Duggan ; 
Mrs. Delaney, Miss Blanche Stanley ; Maud Vere De Vere, 
Miss Millicent Barr ; Maid, Miss Helen Vincent ; Katie, Little 
Garnet Vane ; Gladys, Miss Kate Tyndall. Still running. 

27. CINDERELLA: Pantomime by Geoffrey Thorne. 
Garrick. Cast: Cinderella, Miss Grace Dudley; Thisbe,\li. 
Harry Nicholls ; Clorinda, Mr. J. Le Hay; Baron Pumpo lino\ 
Mr. William Lugg ; Baroness, Miss Kate Phillips ; Pedro, Mr. 
Fred Kaye ; Prince Felix, Miss Helen Bertram ; Dandini, Miss 
Florrie Harmon ; Fernando, Miss Lillie Thurlow ; Alidoro, Mr. 
Guy Barrett; The Grand Chamberlain, Mr. C. Thornburn ; 
The Fairy Godmother, Miss Cicely Richards ; The Black Cat, 
Mr, O. E. Lennon; The Wood Pigeon, Miss Louie Loveday; 
The Fox, Miss E. Hoby; Modiste, Miss Violet Darrell; Fancy , 
Miss Georgina Leno. Still running. 


27. BABES IN THE WOOD: Pantomime by Arthur 

Sturgess and Arthur Collins. Drury Lane. Cast: Prince 
Paragon, Miss Ada Blanche ; Marian, Miss Violet Robinson ; 
Miss Gertie Girton, Miss Alice Barnett ; The Spirit of Youth, 
Miss Kate Graves ; Queen Humming- Bird, Madame Grigolati ; 
Reggie, Mr. Dan Leno ; Chrissie, Mr. Herbert Campbell ; The 
Baron Banbury, Mr. John A. Warden; Bill, Mr. Griffin; 
Will, Mr. Dubois ; Spirit of Indigestion, Mr. Charles Angelo; 
Spirit of Castigation, Mr. Alfred Balfour ; King Frog, Mr. 
Ernest D'Auban ; Showman, Mr. A. T. Hendon. Still running. 


Alexandra, Stoke Neiuington, Dick Whittington ; Artillery, 
Woolwich, The Babes in the Wood; Balham, Cinderella; 
Britannia, Will o' the Wisp ; Broadway, Deptford, Cinderella ; 
Brixton, Robinson Crusoe ; County, Kingston - on Thames, 
Beauty and the Beast ; Elephant and Castle, Aladdin ; 
Edmonton, Cinderella; Grand, Croydon, Cinderella; Grand, 
Fulham, Aladdin ; Grand, Islington, Dick Whittington ; Lyric, 
Hammersmith, Cinderella ; Metropole, Camberwell, Red Riding 
Hood ; Morton's, Greenwich, Red Riding Hood ; Parkhurst, 
Cinderella ; Pavilion, Jack and the Beanstalk ; Queen's, Crouch 
End, AH Baba, or the Forty Thieves ; Richmond, Robinson 
Crusoe ; Shakespeare, Clapham, Dick Whittington ; Standard, 
Sinbad; Surrey, The Yellow Dwarf; West London, Dick 
Whittington ;- Walthamstowe, Robinson Crusoe. 

Note. Throughout this Synopsis "still running" means on 
3 1st December 1897. 

Corrigenda. "A Man about Town" was withdrawn from 
the Avenue on 23rd January; " The Manxman " was played at 
the Lyric for the last time on 5th May; "The Maid of Athens" 
was withdrawn from the Opera Comique on ist July. 

Outlying and Suburban Theatres. 


4. THE CITY OUTCAST: Drama in a Prologue and 
Three Acts. Originally produced in the provinces. Theatre 
Royal, Stratford. 


Pantomime by Victor Stevens. Theatre Royal, Kilburn. 


WIT: Musical Sketch by W. E. Bailey and Edgar Ward; 
Music by Edgar Ward. West London. 

22. THE SLEDGE-HAMMER: Drama in Four Acts, 
by Nestor Le Theirs ; adapted to the English stage by Wilson 
Barrett. Theatre Royal, Kilburn. Cast : Matthew Derrick, 
Mr. Alfred North way ; Jacob Derrick, Mr. Ronald Bayne ; 
Simon Derrick, Mr. Arthur Skelton ; Everard Derrick, Mr. 
Frank Lindo ; John Merlo, Mr. Fred S. Majur ; Cornelius 
Derrick, Mr. Littleton Eyre; Bob Merlo, Mr. Richard H. 
Lindo; Tom Walker, Mr. Harry Elliston ; Dr. Clark, Mr. 
Frank Charles; Ezra Walker, Mr. Robert Mynton ; Anthony 
Hebblethwaite, Mr. James Hennesey; Sam Shaws, Mr. Alfred 
Scott ; Martha Derrick, Miss Susie Fradelle ; Catherine 
Hennis, Miss Marion Wakeford ; Rose Maywell, Miss Agnes 
B. Cahill. 


Four Acts, by F. A. Scudamore. Brixton Theatre. Cast : 


Cyril Aubrey, Mr. Edward Beecher ; Mr. Orcus, Mr. Cyril 
Austin- Lee ; Lord Fur-nival Hestor, Mr. Frank Harding ; Lord 
Algernon Blight, Mr. Arthur Edmonds; Sir Tony Vere, Mr. 
Ernest Pope; The Rev. Samuel Reeve, Mr. John Ottoway; Bill 
Hat, Mr. Charles H. Stone ; Jim West, Mr. W. Jackson ; 
Thomas, Mr. J. J. Dallas, Jun. ; Scruggs, Mr. Viner ; Nixus, 
Mr. A. W. Draper ; Mrs. Bobbins, Miss Emily Miller ; Lady 
Tosephine Blight, Miss May Fallows ; Sparkes, Miss Viola 
March ; Evelyn West, Miss Agnes Hewitt. 

8. TAKEN BY FORCE: Drama in Five Acts, by 
Wilfred Rodgers ; founded upon Kilsyth Stellier's novel of the 
same title. Novelty. 

8. A DAUGHTER OF ISHMAEL: Drama in Four 
Acts, by W. J. Pat more. Originally produced at the St. 
James's Theatre, Manchester, as " Miriam Grey, or the Living 
Dead," 2Oth July 1896; played for the first time in London 
at the Lyric, Hammersmith, under its present title, 3ist 
August 1896. Surrey. Cast : Jack Winthorpe, Mr. Ernest 
E. Norris ; Sir Richard Harcourt, Mr. Charles Cruikshanks ; 
Stephen holt, Mr. John Webb ; Horatio Theophilus Bnue, 
Mr. George Conquest, Jun.; The Hon. Bertie Cross, Mr. Arthur 
Conquest ; James Lee, Mr. Frank Lister ; Daniello Mastarne t 
Mr. Ernest Ball ; Pietro, Miss Cissy Farrell ; Daivson, Mr. 
Arthur Hall ; John Tramphard, Mr. J. Miller ; Lady Harcourt, 
Miss Cissy Percival ; Sally Pope, Miss Mabel Luxmore ; Mrs. 
Boxer, Miss Marian Hall ; Alice Harcourt, Miriam Grey, Miss 
Kate Olga Vernon. 


LOVEMAKING : Comedietta by Allan Atwood and Russell 
Vaun. Parkhurst. 

22. CATHARINE : Drama in One Act, by Cecil Fitzroy. 

29. THE CORONER : Drama in a Prologue and Four 
Acts, by J. W. Hemming and Cyril Harrison. Novelty. 




Musical Comedy in Two Acts, by G. R. Sims ; Lyrics by 
Percy Marshall; Music by George Pack and Henry Wm. May. 
Originally produced at the County Theatre, Reading, 24th 
August 1896. Theatre Metropole, Camberwell. Cast: 
pbadiah Dingle, Mr. George Walton ; Augustus Crackle, Mr. 
Frank Lacy ; James Warfield, Mr. Rudolph Lewis ; Frank 
Pelham, Mr. Frank Barclay; Garnishee M'Intyre, Mr. John 
Fi M'Ardle ; James Sharpleigh, Mr. Trueman Towers ; Oyster- 
man, Mr. William Palmer ; Cabman, Mr. Howard Law ; Post- 
man, Mr. Joe Shaw ; Mrs. Atigustus Crackle, Miss Alice 
Selwyn; Mrs. Obadiah Dingle, Miss Evelyn Shelley; Millicent 
Warfield, Miss Amu Farrell ; Madame Farleigh, Miss Florence 
Melville ; Ethel, Miss Violet Crossley ; Kitty, Miss Rita Leslie; 
Edith, Miss Laura Farrell ; Amy, Miss Daisy Cook ; Sarah, 
Miss Isa Bowman. ' 

5. OUR HOSTESS : English version of Goldoni's La 
Locandiera, by A. O'D. Bartholeyns. Theatre Royal, 

Kilburn. Cast : Mr. Anthony Oriel, Mr. J. Herbert Beaumont; 
Sir Boyle Overton, Mr. Dallas Welford ; Captain Bendor, Mr. 
Hubert Hope ; Farringham, Mr. Herbert Maule ; Peter, Mr. 
G. Bassett ; Bell Brighton, Miss Joan Barlra ; Sal Larkins t 
Miss Violet Royal; Ellen Bracingdle, Miss Irene Vanbrugh. 

5. CAPTAIN FRITZ: Musical Comedy-Drama in 
Five Acts, founded on " Rosedale," a well-known American 
play. Lyric Theatre, Hammersmith. Cast : Captain 
Fritz, Mr. Charles Arnold; Sir Geoffrey Vereker, Bart., Miss 
May Douglas ; Colonel Vereker, Mr. Kenneth Black ; Adrian 
Earle, M.D., Mr. W. S. Hartford; Squire Studholm, Mr. 
George Delaforce ; Simeon Lake, Mr. H. M. Clifford ; Corporal 
Soyer, Mr. James M* William ; Underwood, Mr. William 
Aysom ; Rube, Mr. C. Porter ; Amos, Mr. W. , Yeldham ; 
Lady Vereker, Miss Leak Marlborough ; Sybil Errington, Miss 
Dot Frederic; Priscilla Gedge,W\^ Dorcas Corsbie ; ' Dina 
Wurzle, Miss Marie Wright ; Mother Rook, Mrs. Douglas: 


ARflADA: Historical Prize Drama in Five Acts, by A. R. 
Slous. Also THE LAST TEMPTATION : A Sketch by 
Percival H. T. Sykes. Novelty. 

12. THE SORROWS OF 5ATAN : Play in Four 
Acts, founded on George Augustus Sala's story of " Margaret 
Forster" and Marie Corelli's novel, "Sorrows of Satan." 
Shakespeare, Clapham. Cast : Prince Lucio Ahriman, 
Mr. C. W. Somerset ; Paul Carruthers, Mr. S. Herberte 
Basing ; Craflon Lyle, Mr. J. Nelson Ramsey ; Lord Francis 
Wellington wnAJohn Burrows, Mr. Harry Buss ; The Bishop of 
Beerborough, Mr. Martin Wade ; Sir John Grabley, Mr. R. 
Peningley ; Peter Wiirrell, Mr. Phipps Weston ; Alun Fox, 
Mr. J. J. Fenton ; Margaret Forster, Miss Alice De Winton ; . 
Alary Forster, Miss Hilda Foster ; Countess Draggnette, Miss 
Maud Brennan ; The Hon. Ethel Cholmondeley and Vane 
Clartenax, Miss Winifred Davies; Mother Wurrell, Miss. 
Sydney Keith ; Lady Delila Draggnette, Miss Grace Warner. 

12. THE COUNTY FAIR: Drama in Four Acts, by 
Charles Bernard. Originally produced in America. Brixton. 
Cast : Abigail Prue, Mr. Neil Burgess ; Otis Tucker, Mr.. 
Bartley M'Callum ; Solon Hammerhead, Mr. Cecil Elgar ';'. 
Tim the Tanner, Mr. Ridge way Barrie ; Joel Bartktt, Mr. 
Laurence Cautley ; Bill Parker, Mr. Charles Craig ; Taggs, 
Miss Emma Pollock ; Sally Greenaway, Miss May Taylor ; 
Maria Perkins, Miss Ray Scott ; Jockeys, Mr. W. A. Eastwood, 
Mr. J. B. Russell, Mr. M. Victor. 

Play; originally produced at the Cercle Funambulesque, Paris; 
performed for the first time in England. Also A ROYAL 
ROUNDHEAD: Romantic Operetta in One Act, Libretto 
by Hugh Seton ; Music by Denham Harrison. Matinee. 

19. SIN BAD : The Christmas Pantomime revived at the 

19. A FRIEND IN NEED: Comedietta by Frank 
Runciman. Novelty. 


19. THE MONEY-SPIDER: Comic Opera in Two 
Acts, by Arthur Eliot ; composed by Clarence Lucas. 

26. AT THE FERRY: Play in One Act, by Mrs. 
Fawcett. Theatre Royal, Kilburn. 

26. AT DEAD OF NIGHT: Melodrama in Five 
Acts, by Harold Whyte. Novelty. 

26. THE HUE AND CRY: Melodrama in Four Acts, 
by Arthur Shirley and Benjamin Landeck. Pavilion. Cast : 
Cleve Ryley, Mr. Ashley Page ; Inspector Lilson, Mr. Charles 
Cecil ; Eustace Lee, alias Captain Nero, Mr. Julian Cross ; 
Frank Dixon, Mr. G. W. Cockburn ; William Coltson, Mr. 
H. F. M'Clelland ; Dave Crowley, Mr. James Elmore ; Rath- 
burne, Mr. F. Boustead ; Herbert Mason, Mr. Russell Norrie ; 
Stephanie, Miss Clara Nicholls ; George Slagg, Mr. Maitland 
Marler ; Theophilus Timmins, Mr. Lennox Pawle ; Christopher 
Coates, Mr. George Yates ; Robert Fisher, Mr. Charles Stuart ; 
Ned Ryley, Little Ethel Rainforth ; Two Roughs, Messrs. 
Godfrey and Sparkes ; Warder, Mr. Johnson ; Matilda 
Timmins, Miss Harriet Clifton ; Madeline, Miss Marian 
Denvil ; Nancy, Miss Rachel de Solla ; Bessie, Miss Lilian 

GLENQALL: Melodrama in Four Acts, by F. Maeder and 
C. Vernon. West London. 

26. A CAPITAL MATCH : Comedietta in One Act, by 
William Parker. Theatre Royal, Richmond. 


3. THE SORROWS OF SATAN: Play in Three 
Acts, adapted by S. Creagh Henry from Marie Corelli's novel. 
Lyric, Hammersmith. Cast: Prince Lucius Rimani, Mr. 
Frank Adair; Godfrey Howard, Mr. W. S. Hartford; The 


Earl of Eldon, Mr. Kenneth Black ; Mr. Bentley, Mr. George 
Delaforce; Nonus Neil, Mr. James M* William; Peters, Mr. 
W. Aysom ; Mrs. Pinch, Miss Kate Vollaire ; The Countess of 
Eldon, Miss Alice Ingram ; Lady Mabel Eldon, Miss Leah 
Marlborough; Phyllis Dare, Miss Ruth M'Kay; Anna Christy, 
Miss Marie Wright. 

3. THE LADY BURGLAR: Play in One Act, by 

E. J. Malyon and Charles James. Also CUPID FROM 
JEWRY : Comedy in Three Acts, by J. A. Mason. 
Theatre Royal, Kilburn. 

6. THE INSTITUTE ABROAD: An Adaptation of 
"The Celestial Institute," by Alfred Stallman and G. .B. 
Carvill ; Music by Leonard Butler. Matinee. 

17. ALL FOR HER: by Palgrave Simpson and Herman 
Merivale. Grand. Cast : Hugh Trevor, Mr. Kendal ; Rad- 
ford, Mr. J. F. Graham ; Lord Edendale, Mr. Frank Fenton ; 
Colonel Darner, Mr. William Lugg; Hamilton, Mr. Rudge 
Harding ; Morris, Mr. Alfred Brown ; Lindsay, Mr. Rodney 
Edgcumbe ; Crake, Mr. G. P. Poison ; Johnson, Mr. A. 
Owens; Greystone, Mr. Charles Sennett ; Officer, Mr. W. 
Arrowsmith ; Mary Rivers, Miss Nellie Campbell ; Lady 
Marsden, Mrs. Kendal. 

17. THE AMERICAN BELLE: Musical Comedy in 
Two Acts, by Hugh Seton and Sydney Ward. Originally 
produced at the Opera House, Cheltenham, on iQth April 
1897. Theatre Metropole, Camberwell. Cast: Dick 
Beaumont, Mr. Charles E. Stevens ; Jack Dunne, Mr. Maurice 
Mancini ; Lord Pomeroy, Mr. H. G. Dupres ; The Hon. Gussie 
Granby, Mr. Harold Eden ; Shakespeare Middleman, Mr. 
Arthur Alexander ; Mr. Peter, Mr. Walter Westwood ; Bertie 
Brown, Mr. O. E. Lennon ; Charles, Mr. Frank Couch; 
Pmdence Beaumont, Miss Cissy Saumarez ; Sadie Clay, Miss 
Jenny Owen; The Hon. Miss A. Youngbody, Miss Clarissa 
Talbot ; Hannah, Miss Marie Campbell. 


17. THE BLACK BOARDER: Farce, by Horace 

Johnstone. Theatre Royal, Kilburn. 

RANSOM : Drama in Four Acts, by John Douglass, 
Lyric, Hammersmith. 


I. A LOST EDEN: Drama in One Act, by Misg : 
Hammond Hills. Novelty. 

by Bernard Macdonald. Theatre Royal, Kilburn. 

7. WINKHOPPER'S PLOT: Farce, by V. C. Rolfe. 

16. THE SYNDICATE : Farcical Comedy in Two Acts, 
by Adeline Votieri. Also THE BROKEN STRING: 

Musical Episode, by Alfred C. Calmour. Matinee. 

17. IN THE GOLDEN DAYS: Play in Four Acts, 
adapted from Edna Lyall's novel of the same name by Edwin 
Gilbert. Matinee. 

BOY BLUE: Musical Fancy Play by Aveton Giftard. 

28. WHEN LONDON SLEEPS: Melodrama, by 
Charles Darrell (originally produced at the Theatre Royal, 
Darlington, on i8th May 1896). Shakespeare, Clapham. \ 


5. FALSELY ACCUSED: Drama in Four Acts, by 
Rita Carlyle. Pavilion. Cast: Frank Palmer, Mr. Tom- 
Terriss ; Colonel Sylvester, Mr. George Yates ; Reginald Har- 
rington, Mr. Frank Adair ; Captain Faversharn, Mr. C. Yates ; 


Brian O 1 Donahue, Mr. Robert Barton ; Charlie Deighton, Mr. 
Bernard Leill ; Aq^lil^poota, Mr. Charles Hermann ; Andy 
Casey, Mr. E. O'C. Fitzsimon ; Running Fox, Mr. W. H. 
Merton; Sydney Palmer, Master Charlie Clarke ; Clarice Har- 
rington, Miss Florence Hermann; Mrs. Kittle O'Connor, 
Miss Harriet Clifton; Eileen O'Connor, Miss Josie Danby ; 
Maranda, Miss Maude St. John ; Mona, Miss Lillie Thurlow ; 
Minnie Livingston, Miss Marion Preston ; Vera Sylvester, 
Miss Rita Carlyle. 

5. THE SORROWS OF SATAN: Dramatic Version 
of Marie Corelli's novel, by Henry S. Dacre. Britannia. 
Cast : Prince Lucio Rimanez, Mr. Charles East ; Geoffrey 
Tempest, Mr. Algernon Syms ; Aniiel, Mr. Harry Royce ; Lord 
Elton, Mr. J. B. Howe; Viscount Lynton, Mr. William Gar- 
rett ; The Hon. Arthur Estcourt, Mr. J. Dunlop ; Captain 
Marsden, Mr. Edwin Fergusson ; Mr. Ellis, Mr. Edward 
Leigh ; Morris, Mr. F. Beaumont ; John, Mr. Broughton ; 
William, Mr. Gregory ; Policeman, Mr. Barrett ; Man, Mr. 
Atterton; Lady Sybil Elton, Miss East Robertson; The Countess 
of Elton, Mrs. Marion Arnold ; Mavis Clare, Miss Louisa 
Peach ; The Duchess of Worldom, Miss Julia Summers ; The 
Marchioness of May fair, Miss Maggie Kelsey ; Diana Chesney, 
Miss Marie Brian ; Mary, Miss Fiorrie Kelsey ; Mrs. Htigkes, 
Miss Weston. 

5. A NIGHT IN ARflOUR: Musical Comedy-Drama 
in Four Acts, by Walter Burnot and Harry Bruce ; Music by 
Peter Wilson. Originally produced as "A (K)Night in 
Armour" at Theatre Royal, Leigh, in August 1895. Surrey. 

6. THE COLLABORATORS : Farce in One Act, by 

Lord Kilmarnock. Matinee. 

9. ARDEN OF FEVERSHAM : Play ascribed to 
Shakespeare. Elizabethan Stage Society's performance. Also 
Play of "King Edward the Third." Elizabethan Stage 
Society's performance, flatinee. 



9. A MUSICAL DI5CORD : Sketch in One Act, by 
Clay M. Greene. First time in London. Borough, Strat- 

12. THE CROSS FOR VALOUR: Military Drama 
in Four Acts, by John Douglas and Frank Bateman. 

15. THE MERRY MONK: Comic Opera in Two 
Acts, by Michael Dure and Malcolm Bell, composed by A. 
Llewellyn. Matinee. 

19. THE KANGAROO GIRL: Musical Version of 
"Dr. Bill"; music by Oscar Barrett. Originally produced at 
the Pleasure Gardens Theatre, Folkestone, I2th July 1897. 
Metropole, Camberwell. Cast: Dr. William Browne, 
Mr. J. R. Crauford ; Mr. Finnan, Mr. George Raiemond ; 
George Webster, Mr. Edward Morehen ; Mr. Horton, Mr. 
Francis Horley ; Baggs, Mr. John Pritchard ; Sergeant, Mr. 
Charles Phillips ; Mrs. Norton, Miss Nellie Ganthony ; Mrs. 
William Browne, Miss May Cross ; Jennie Firman, Miss Kate 
Dudley; Mrs. Firman, Miss Pattie Bell; Ellen, Miss E. 
Pryce ; Miss Kate Fauntleroy, Miss Florrie Harmon. 

19. THE SILENCE OF NIGHT: Drama in Four 
Acts, by John D. Saunders. Shakespeare, Clapham. Cast : 
Jack Eversley, Mr. John D. Saunders ; Sir William Alexander, 
Mr. D. Lyn Harding; Urban Flinton, Mr. Henry Vibart; 
Henry Valentine, Mr. H. Gomer May ; Parker, Mr. Harry 
Elliston ; Pipable, Mr. Cecil Elgar ; The Hon. Drawley, Mr. 
J. Warrington; Lord Stiffenbache, Mr. G. Stevens; Frank 
Hitstier, Mr. Frank Beresford ; Jockster, Mr. C. A. Morgan ; 
Jarvis, Mr. Jarvis Widdicombe ; Old Billy, Mr. H. B. Dun- 
field ; Hochmuth, Mr. Clifford Tanner ; Inspector Quick, Mr. 
T. H. Harrison ; Thomas, Mr. Manners-Knight ; Murdoch, 
Mr. C. F. Rochford; Harriet Valentine, Miss Laura Johnson; 
Kitty Spencer, Miss Emile Onnesby; Miss Violet Snellgrove, 
Miss Maud Thompson ; Miss Money love, Miss Ruby Desmond; 


Lady Stiffenbache, Miss Ada Palmer ; Winifred Alexander, 
Miss Dora De Winton. 

22. BROKEN FETTERS : Play in One Act, by Charles 
Thursby. Matinee. 

26. THE VICTORIA CROSS : Drama by J. W. Whit- 
bread. Originally produced at the Queen's Theatre, Dublin, 
6th September 1896. Pavilion. 


Acts, by T. Gideon Warren. Surrey. Cast : James Ventnor, 
Mr. Charles Cruikshanks ; Harold Ventnor, Mr. Ernest E. 
Norris ; Stephen Gale, Mr. John Webb ; Champion Bragge, 
Mr. George Conquest, Jun.; Ben Brayling, Mr. Frank Lister; 
Fred Denvil, Mr. Fred Conquest ; Nat Blacket, Mr. Ernest E. 
Ball; Joe Goss, Mr. Arthur Hall; Colley, Mr. Arthur Conquest; 
Judge Parkts, Mr. H. Saunders ; Inspector of Police, Mr. J. 
Millar ; Wilson, Mr. H. Evans ; Rose Raeburn, Miss Kate 
Olga Vernon ; Lady Pagnell, Miss Florence E. Florence ; 
Eleanor Pagnell, Miss Laura Dyson ; Kate Bray ling, Miss 
Cissie Farrell ; Madame Klein, Miss Cissy Percival ; Miss 
Frogmore, Miss Amy Dyson. 

2. THE BALLET GIRL: Musical Comedy in Two 
Acts, by James T. Tanner; Lyrics by Adrian Ross ; Music by 
Carl Kiefert. First played at the Grand Theatre, Wolver- 
hampton, I5th March 1897. Brixton. 

9. STIRRING TIMES: Musical Play by Frank H. 
Celli and Brian Daly. Originally produced, 2nd August 
1897, at the Opera House, Southport. Shakespeare, 

30. A BIT OF DRAPERY: Comedietta by Preston 
Hope. Metropole, Camberwell. 

30. NORAH : Comedy in One Act, by Re Henry. 


30. OH, MY WIFE ! Duologue by Daphne De Rohan. 
Lyric, Baling. 


20. TOTO AND TATA: Operetta in Three Acts, by 
MM. Paul Bilhaud and Albert Barre ; Music by Antoine Banes. 
Originally produced as "Toto" at the Menus-Plaisirs, Paris, 
loth June 1892; English version by A. M. Thompson; 
Lyrics by Boyd Jones and J. J. Wood. First played at the 
Grand Theatre, Leeds, 23rd August 1897. Metropole. 
Cast : Cabestan, Mr. E. J. Lonnen ; Gaston Manners, Mr. 
Roland Cunningham ; Bernard, Mr. Walter Groves ; Dupalet, 
Mr. Richard Blunt ; Captain Victor Hanotaux, Mr. Bert. 
Haslem ; Riebert, Mr. Frank James; Gendarme, Mr. Charles 
Usher ; Foulard, Mr. Frederick Rix ; Waiter, Mr. James 
Francis; Fireman, Mr. J. G. Shuter ; Policeman, Mr. F. 
Finch ; Cesarine, Miss Alys Rees ; Aurilie, Miss Emily Millar ; 
Suzanne, Miss Maud Hoppe ; Marie, Miss Edith Armstrong ; 
Madame Hanotaux, Miss Ruth Mackay ; Paul, Miss Violet 
Dacre ; Anatole, Miss Florence Wykes ; Emile, Miss M. 
Gathorne ; Erneste, Miss E. Maynard ; Mdlle. Corinne, Miss 
Dorothy Dean ; Chariot, Miss M. Bell ; Etienne, Miss Esme 
Gordon ; Toto and Tata, Miss Marie Montrose. 

20. THE PERILS OF PARIS: Domestic Drama in 
a Prologue and Three Acts, adapted by Arthur Shirley from 
La Porteu^e de Pain of MM. De Montepin and Dournay. Pro- 
duced at the Paris Ambigu on nth January 1889. Lyric, 

27. FROM SCOTLAND- YARD : Drama in a Prologue 
and Four Acts, by John Douglas and Frank Bateman. Origin- 
ally produced at Accrington, i6th August 1897. Parkhurst. 


4. THE NEW MEPHLSTO: Musical Comedy in 
Two Acts. Originally produced as the " New Mephistopheles " 
at the Grand Theatre, Leeds, 29th March 1897. Brixton. 


II. WOnAN AND WINE: Drama in Four Acts, by 
Ben Landeck and Arthur Shirley. Pavilion. Cast : Dick 
Seymour, Mr. Ashley Page ; Hugh Seymour , Mr. G. W. 
Cock burn; Alphonse Beaudet, Mr. Oscar Adye ; Pierre Crucru, 
Mr. Albert Marsh ; Professor Sawter, Mr. Fred Coyne ; Charles 
Sawter, Mr. Lennox Pawle ; Phineas Collins, Mr. H. F. 
M'Clelland; Mark Parkins, Mr. A. W. Fitzgerald; Due 
d'Arnac, Mr. Russell Norrie; Bob Tipton, Mr. Fred Boustead; 
President of the Court, Mr. Charles Cecil ; Carlo, Mr. Ferry ; 
Joseph, Mr. Adams ; Foreman of the Jttry, Mr. Godfrey ; An 
Advocate, Mr. R. Collins; Mary Andrews, Miss Marion Denvil; 
Marcel Rigadout, Miss V. St. Lawrence ; Janet Marlow, Miss 
E. Brinsley Sheridan ; La Colombe, Miss Rachel De Solla ; 
Madame Perinet, Miss lona Robertson ; Susanne, Miss Edith 

II. KITTY : Comic Opera in Two Acts, by Walter Parke 
and Henry Parker. First played at the Opera House, Chelten- 
ham, 3oth August 1897. Theatre Royal, Kilburn. 

18. THE FORTUNE-HUNTER : Play in Three Acts, 
by W. S. Gilbert. Originally produced at the Theatre 
Royal, Birmingham, 27th September 1897. Queen's Opera 
House, Crouch End. Cast : The Dtike of Dundee, Mr. C. 
B. Clarence ; Sir Cuthbert Jameson, Mr. Edmund Maurice ; 
The Marquis De Breville, Mr. Arthur Nerton ; Vicomte Armand 
De Breville, Mr. Luigi Lablache ; M. Lachaud, Mr. George P. 
Hawtrey ; Mr. Dudley Coxe, Mr. Compton Coutts ; Mr. 
Barker, Mr. W. R. Staveley ; Mr. Taylor, Mr. C. Butt ; Mr. 
Paillard, Mr. C. O. Axton ; Mr. M'Quarris, Mr. Vivian 
Stenhouse ; Pollard, Mr. A. Clay ; Captain Munroe, Mr. 
Charles Howe; Mr. M'Fie, Mr. Howard Sturge ; Quarter- 
master, Mr. Charles Leighton ; The Diichess of Dundee, Miss 
Cicely Richards; The Marquise De Breville, Miss Adelina 
Baird ; Mrs. Dudley Coxe, Miss Nora O'Neil ; Miss Somerton, 
Miss Regina Repton ; Miss Bailey, Miss A. Beauchamp ; 
Diana Caverel, Miss Fortescue. 


18. SPORTING LIFE : Drama in Four Acts, by Cecil 
Raleigh and Seymour Hicks. Shakespeare Theatre, Clap- 
ham Junction. Cast : John, Earl of Woodstock, Mr. Leonard 
Boyne ; Sir Charles Bray bourne, Mr. Sam Sothern ; The 
Hon. Dudley Stanhope, Mr. Edward Sillward ; Gen. Reginald 
Molyneux, V.C., Mr. Walter M'Ewen; Isidore Andreade, 
Mr. G. R. Foss ; Sergeant Dan Doxey, Mr. Fred Emney ; 
Geoffrey Pilgrim, Mr. Hardie ; Joe Lee, Mr. George Flood ; 
Malet De Carteret, Mr. Julian Royce ; Jordan, Mr. F. Dark ; 
George Gale, Mr. D. Holcroft ; Lucas, Mr. John Grant ; Mason, 
Mr. H. Daly ; Mavor, Mr. T. H. Elsworthy ; Saunders, Mr. 
W. W. Watson ; A Beggar, Mr. Frank Hilton ; Cleary, Mr. 
George Claremont ; Barney, Mr. A. B. Fielding ; Red Mike, 
Mr. J. E. Manning ; Burton, Mr. T. B. Mailing ; Willmot, 
Mr. C. J. Fairleigh; Gel/and, Mr. G. H. Oliver; Cabmen, 
Mr. H. Peters ; Referee, Mr. Harry De Lacy ; Policeman, Mr. 
Thompson Long ; Timekeeper, Mr. Frank Davey ; Master of 
the Ceremonies, Mr. C. Francis ; Crake, Mr. H. A. Millar ; 
Newsboy, Mr. T. C. Aubrey ; Joe Spratt, Mr. Thiel ; Jim, Mr. 
George Dauncy; First Rustic, Mr. E. C. Owen ; Second Rustic, 
Mr. George Davison ; Miles Cavanagh, Mr. W. J. Robertson ; 
Philip, Mr. E. H. Brooke ; Norah, Miss Denman ; Kitty, Miss 
Kathleen Deene ; Clara, Miss Madge Merry ; Jessie, Miss 
Beresford ; Nursemaid, Miss Bonheur ; First Lady, Miss Helen 
Rowley ; Olive De Carteret, Mrs. Raleigh. 

1 8. THE VAGABOND KING : Play in Four Acts, by 
Louis N. Parker. Metropole, Camberwell. Cast : Don 
Pedro XIV., Mr. Murray Carson ; Pandolfo, Mr. George Gros- 
smith, Jun. ; Don Miguel de Santa Rosa y Paruro, Mr. 
Gilbert Farquhar ; Marchese de Castelverano, Mr. Lawrence 
D'Orsay ; Chevalier Moffat, Mr. Sidney Brough ; Monseigneur, 
Mr. Fred Grove ; Benito, Mr. D. L. Mannering ; One-eyed 
Sammy, Mr. Charles Mordan ; Donna Pia, Miss Bateman ; 
Stella Desmond, Miss Lena Ash well ; Princess Zea of Santorin, 
Miss Phyllis Broughton ; Lady Violet, Miss Ethel Verne ; 
Mrs. Waliis, Mrs. Leigh. 


Four Acts, by Frederick Jarman. Originally produced at the 
Opera House, Londonderry, 2Oth September 1897. Theatre 
Royal, Stratford. 

27. THE BURGLAR'S BABY: Comedy Drama in 
Three Acts, by John Douglas and Charles Williams. Lyric, 


i. THE DUCHESS OF DIJON: Comic Opera in Two 
Acts ; Book by Basil Hood ; Music by Walter Slaughter. First 
played at the Theatre Royal, Portsmouth, 2Oth September 1897. 

15. THE GOLDEN SERPENT: Drama in Four Acts, 
by T. N. Walter. Theatre Royal, Stratford. 

in Four Acts, by George R. Sims and Leonard Merrick. 
Produced at the Regent Theatre, Salford, nth Octobei 
1897. Grand. Cast: Dan Rafferty, Mr. John F. Sheridan; 
Paul Way land, Mr. Nelson Ramsey ; Frank Amory, Mr. 
Maurice Mancini ; Stephen Lyle, Mr. William Devereux ; Jim 
Radley, Mr. Wm. Brandon ; Richard Draycott, Mr. Frederick 
Annerly ; Beauty, Mr. George T. Minshull ; Tommy Bloss, 
Mr. Bert Williams; Charley Scraggs, Mr. Douglas Miller; 
Policeman, Mr. Fred Fentiman ; Dosser No. I, Mr. Charles 
Denham ; Dosser No. 2, Mr. Louis Hatch; Frankie, Master 
Bertie ; Margaret Draycott, Miss Mena Le Bert ; fittth, Miss 
Marie Polini ; Loo Enderby, Miss Helena Head; Semolina, 
Miss Ida Laurence ; Tilly Fitzfotheringay, Miss Gracie 

26. HENRY ESMOND: Play, adapted by T. Edgar 
Pemberton from Thackeray's novel. Originally produced at 
the Lyceum, Edinburgh, 5th March 1897. Queen's Opera 
House, Crouch End. 



2. SOCIAL DEBTS : Farcical Comedy in Three Acts, 
founded on a German Play, by Barton White. County, 
Ki ngston-on-Thames. 


Play in Four Acts, adapted by the author and Miss Isabel 
Bateman from Mr. A. E. W. Mason's novel of the same name. 
Grand. Cast : Morrice Buckler, Mr. Yorke Stephens ; Count 
Lukstein, Mr. W. L. Abingdon ; Lord Elmscott, Mr. Henry 
Vibart ; Sir Julian Harnwood, Mr. Charles Fulton ; Lord 
Culvert on, Mr. E. H. Kelly; Hugh Mars fan, Mr. Herbert 
Parcy; Citthbert Cliffe, Mr. Fred Parr; Charles Aglionby, 
Mr. William Luff; Father Spaur, Mr. Frederick Powell ; 
Otto Krax, Mr. Charles Levey; A Gaoler, Mr. Gerald Godfrey; 
Servant, Mr. W. Goodner; Ilga L^lkstein, Miss Esme Ber- 
inger ; Betty Marston, Miss Helen Leyton ; Clemence Durette, 
Miss Furtado Clarke. 

13. CHARLOTTE CORD AY : Play in Four Acts. 
Grand, Islington. Cast : Marat, Mr. Bellew ; Francis De 
Corday D'Armont, Mr. Frederick Everill ; Abbe Fleiiriot, Mr. 
Arthur Wood ; Adam Luse, Mr. A. Bawttee ; David, Mr. 
Henry Lee; Potin, Mr. W. St. John; Drouet, Mr. Lyons; 
Chabot, Mr. Edmunds ; Chevause De La Garde, Mr. Walter 
Gay; Rebullet, Mr. A. Harding; Cannut, Mr. Ernest Elton; 
A Printer, Mr. Athelstone ; A Gendarme, Mr. Lyons ; A 
Jailor, Mr. E. J. Norris ; Rose De Corday D'Armont, Mrs. 
Harding ; Simmone Everad, Miss Ailsa Craig ; Marianne, Miss 
Mabel Hackney ; Madame Richard, Mrs. Crofton ; Marie, Miss 
Brooke ; Concierge, Miss Wilmer ; Charlotte Corday, Mrs. 

17. BANTRY BAY : Play in One Act, by Stephen Bond. 

17. A WOMAN'S HEART: Play in One Act, by 

R. S. Warren Bell. Surrey. 



Adelphi, 128, 185, 199, 218, 

Avenue, I, 31, no, 140, 272, 

289, 331. 

Comedy, 79, 130, 169, 259, 349. 
Court, 40, 50, 56, 61, 129, 137, 

168 284, 314. 
Covent Garden, 175. 
Criterion, 5, 56, 81, 236, 239, 


Daly's, 207, 224. 

Drury Lane, 105, 175, 266. 

Duke ol York's, 119, 270, 338. 

Elizabethan Stage Society, 39, 

227, 315 
Gaiety, 2. 
Garrick, xvi, 37. 
Globe, 61, 120, 134, 142, 157, 

167, 252, 311. 
Grand (Islington), 240. 

Haymarket, 164, 253, 309. 
Her Majesty's, 116, 123, 171, 

2 6, 313, 327. 
Holburgthtater (Vienna), 209. 

I ndependent Theatre, 134, 142. 

Lyceum, 17, 105, 180, 254. 
Lyric, 23, 128, 144, 199, 311, 

Mansion House, 315. 
Metropole (Camberwell), 298. 
Middle Temple Hall, 39. 

New Century Theatre, 50, 121, 
319, 331- 

Olympic, 15, 81, 136, 151, 180. 

Opera Comique, 161. 

Oxford University Dramatic 

Society, 57. 
Oxford Theatre, 57. 

Prince of Wales's, 7. 

Prince of Wales's (Tottenham 

Street), 181. 
Princess's, 166, 178. 

Queen's Theatre (Manchester), 

Royalty, 140, 143, 163, 283. 

Sadler's Wells, 176. 
Schauspielhaus (Frankfort), 248. 
Shaftesbury, 12. 
Steinvvay Hall, 318. 
St. George's Hall, 227. 
St. James's, xvi, 96, 360. 
Strand, 38, 79, 112, 121, 192, 
269, 291. 

Terry's, 6, 115, 347. 
Vaudeville, 289. 




Volkstheater (Vienna), 207, 208, 


A ce Soir, 144. 

Admiral Guinea, 60, 319, 331. 
L'Affaire Clemenceau, 305. 
Aglavaine et Selysette, 96. 
All Alive, Oh ! 192. 
Amants, 212. 
Amoureuse, 212. 
Les Amours de Cleopatre, 163. 
Antony and Cleopatra, 66, 156. 
Arden of Feversham, 227. 
As You Like It, 103, 223, 240. 

The Ballad-Monger, 171. 

The Baron's Wager, 272. 

Bebe, 5 . 

Belle Belair, 140. 

The Bells, 107. 

The Benefit of the Doubt, xv. 

Betsy, 5, 237. 

A Bit of Old Chelsea, 56. 

Candida, 273. 

Caste, 97, 168. 

The Cat and the Cherub, 311. 

'Chand d' Habits, 123. 

The Chalk Circle, 214. 

Le Chapeau de Faille d'ltalie, 

Charlie's Aunt, 97, 106, 242, 

2 53- 

The Children of the King, 284. 
Claudian, 26. 

The Comedy of Errors, 211. 
Le Corbeau et le Renard, 144. 
The County Fair, 166. 
A Court of Honour, 140. 

La Dame aux Camelias, 189. 
Dandy Dan the Lifeguardsman, 


The Daughters of Babylon, 23. 
David Garrick, 81. 
A Day in Paris, 119. 

Le Disparu, 192. 

The Divided Way, 263. 

Divor9ons, 166. 

A Doll's House, 134, 211. 

La Douloureuse, 202. 

Dr. Faustus, 227. 

Dr. Johnson, 112. 

Edward III., 230. 

Die Ehre, 211, 244. 

The Emperor's NewClothes, 348. 

L'Enfant Prodigue, 7, 125. 

Engaged, 148. 

The Fanatic, 291. 

Fedora, 133. 

La Femme de Claude, 305. 

The First-Born, 311. 

La Flamboyante, 79. 

Florian Geyer, 247. 

Folly or Saintliness, 39, 48. 

For the Honour of the Family, 


Four Little Girls, 236. 
Francillon, 224, 270. 
The French Maid, 115. 
The Free Pardon, 15. 
Fritzchen, 244. 
Frou-Frou, 199. 

The Geisha, xvii. 
Ghosts, 47, 211. 
Die Goldene Eva, 207, 212. 
El Gran Galeoto, 39, 42. 
The Great Galeoto, 39, 42. 
Das Grobe Hemd, 212. 

Hamlet, 94, 136, 211, 254, 318. 
Hansel und Gretel, 285. 
The Happy Life, 338. 
Heimat, 211, 244. 
Henri III. et sa Cour, 180. 
The Hobby-Horse, 129, 137. 
The Holly-Tree Inn, 6. 



PL AYS Contimied. 

Honesty A Cottage Flower, 


Hoodman Blind, 26. 
The Hunchback, 225. 

In tl 

In 'the Days of the Duke, 249. 
An Irish Gentleman, 167. 

John Gabriel Borkman, 50, 121. 

Karin, 64. 

Katherine and Petruchio, 314. 

King Henry IV., Part I., 66, 

149, 223. 
The Knights, 57. 

The Lady Burglar, 289. 

The Lady of Lyons, 179. 

The League of Youth, 211. 

The Liars, 275. 

Little Glaus and Big Glaus, 


Little Eyolf, 50, 121. 
The Little Minister, xv, 309. 
La Locandiera, 109. 
London Assurance, 180. 
The Lord Harry, 26. 
Lorenzaccio, 185. 
Lost, Stolen or Strayed, 119. 
Low Water, xxiii. 

Macbeth, 156. 

The MacHaggis, 61. 

Madame Sans-Gene, 105, 211. 

Mademoiselle de Belle-Isle, 226. 

The Maid of Athens, 161. 

A Man About Town, I. 

The Man in the Street, 38, 57. 

A Man's Shadow, 327. 

Mariana, 39, 50, 61. 

Le Manage d'Olympe, 169, 305. 

Un Mariage sous Louis XV., 

The Mariners of England, 81. 

A Marriage of Convenience, 164, 


Measure for Measure, 293. 
The Merchant of Venice, 107, 


The Mermaids, 272, 290. 
A Merry Christmas, 38. 
Michael and his Lost Angel, 52, 


Le Misanthrope, 223. 
Miss Francis of Yale, 252. 
Le Monde oil Ton s'ennuie, 144. 
Money, 98, 180. 
Monsieur et Madame Pierrot, 


More than Ever, 289. 
Morituri, 211, 244. 
La Mort du Due d'Enghien, 32. 

Mr. Sympkyn, 120. 

My Friend the Prince, xix, 37. 

My Lady's Orchard, 273. 

Nelson's Enchantress, 32. 

Never Again, 289, 300. 

A Night Out, 1 06, no, 112, 


Niobe, 242. 
The Notorious Mrs. Ebbsmith, 

xv, 100. 

Oh, Susannah ! 283. 

Olivia, 18. 

One Summer's Day, 259, 350. 

On Leave, no. 

Othello, 94, 144. 

Our Hostess, 109. 

A Pair of Spectacles, xviii, 165. 
The Physician, 81, 
A Pierrot's Life, 8, 124. 
The Pillars of Society, 211. 
The Pink Dominoes," 165. 
The Pompadour, 1 1 7. 



PLAYS Continued. 

The Princess and the Butterfly, 

The Princess and the Swineherd, 

The Prisoner of Zenda, xv, 

xix, 96, 107, -i 17. 
The Prodigal Father, 38, 79. 
The Profligate, 52. 
The Purser, 269. 

The Queen's Proctor, 113. 

The Red Lamp, 171. 
Renaissance, 224, 285. 
Richard III., 94, 211. 
Richelieu, 179 
Roger La Honte, 328. 
Romeo and Juliet, n, 51, 153. 
Rosemary, 56, 90. 
Rosmersholm, 211, 289. 

Saucy Sally, 79, 112. 

Die Schmetterlingschlacht, 211, 


The School for Scandal, 12, 224. 
The Seats of the Mighty, 116, 

The Second Mrs. Tanqueray, 

xv, ioo, 170. 

Secret Service, 128, 249, 289. 
Settled Out of Court, 157. 
A Sheep in Wolf's Clothing, 350. 
She Stoops to Conquer, 77. 
The Sign of the Cross, 23, 270, 


The Silver Key, 226, 313. 
The Silver King, 25. 

The Sleeping Partner, 239. 

Sodom's Ende, 21 1. 

The Soldier and the Tinderbox, 


The Son of Don Juan, 39, 47. 
The Son of the Caliph, 285. 
The Sorrows of Satan, 12. 
Spiritisme, 218. 
La Statue du Commandeur, 7. 
A Story of Waterloo, 107. 
Le Sursis, in. 

The Talisman, 285. 

The Taming of the Shrew, 60, 

211, 314. 

The Tarantula, 253. 
Teia, 244. 
The Tempest, 315. 
Tom Cobb, 148. 
La Tosca, 24. 

The Tree of Knowledge, 300. 
Trilby, xv, 119, 171, 242. 
The Triumph of the Philistines, 


Twelfth Night, 39. 
Two Little Vagabonds, 25, 329. 

Under the Red Robe, xv, 107, 

Untreu, 207, 224. 

The Vagabond King, 298, 314 
Die Versunkene Glocke, 245, 285 
Virginius, 128. 

The White Heather, 266 

The Wild Duck, 142, 146, 211. 


/Eschylus, 86. 
Albery, James, 182, 263. 
Ambient, Mark, 283. 
Anzengruber, Ludwig, 241. 

Artois, Armand d', 186. 
Aristophanes, 57, 77. 
Atwood, A., 283. 
Augier, Emile, 169, 305. 



AUTHORS Continued. 

Barnard, Charles, 166. 

Barrett, Wilson, 23. 

Barrie, J. M., 309. 

Bartholeyns, A. O'D., 109. 

Beissier, F., 10. 

Beringer, Mrs. Oscar, 6, 56, 


Berton, Paul M., 12. 
Bisson, A., 192. 

Bjornson, Bjornstjerne, 40, 242. 
Bracco, Roberto, 207, 224. 
Brachvogel, A. E., 117. 
Brook field, Charles, 273. 
Buchanan, Robert, 81. 
Burnand, F. C. , 5, 79. 
Burney, Miss Estelle, 157. 
Byron, H. J., 182. 

Calderon cle la Barca, 41. 
Carr, Comyns, 108, 249. 
Carre, , 10. 
Carton, R. C., 184, 300. 
Chambers, Haddon, 249. 
Congreve, William, 77. 
Craven, W. S. , 236. 

Daudet, Alphonse, 41. 

Davidson, John, 285. 

Day, John T. , 269, 291. 

Dickinson, Charles, 140. 

Donnay, Maurice, 202, 212. 

Dryden, John, 179. 

Dumas, A.,/m?, 164, 180,226, 

Dumas, A.,/?/r, 189, 223, 270, 


Echegaray, Jose, 39, 50. 
Edmund, Charles, 162. 
Esmond, H. V., 184, 259, 350. 

Fernald, Chester Bailey, 311. 
Ferrari, Paolo, 41. 
Flaxman, A. J., 120. 

Freytag, Gustav, 241. 
Fulda, Ludwig, 285. 

Garrick, David, 314. 

Gascogne, , in. 

Gilbert, W. S., xxi, xxiii, 148. 

Gillette, William, 130. 

Goethe, 210. 

Goldoni, Carlo, 109. 

Goldsmith, Oliver, 98, 174. 

Goodwin, J. Cheever, 120. 

Grillparzer, F., 21 1. 

Grundy, Sydney, 117, 164, 183, 

192, 202, 226, 313. 
Gutzkow, Karl, 241. 

Halbe, Max, 284. 
Halevy, L., 199. 
Hamilton, Henry, 2, 266. 
Hauptmann, Gtrhart, 245, 284. 
Hebbel, Friedrich, 241. 
Henley, William Ernest, 319, 


Holcroft, T., 98. 
" Home, Risden," 31. 
Hood, Basil, 115, 345, 348. 
Homer, F., no. 
"Huan Mee," 3. 
Hugo, Victor, 180. 

Ibsen, Henrik, xii, 40, 121, 134, 
142, 146, 211, 223, 242, 289. 

James, , 290. 
Jerome, J. K., 61. 
Jones, Henry Arthur, xxiii, 26, 
52, 81, 183, 275, 293. 

Kleist, Heinrich, 211. 
Knowles, Sheridan, 18, 98, 128, 

225, 241. 
Koppell-Ellfeld, F., 207, 224. 

Labiche, Eugene, 78, 120. 



A UTHORS Continued. 

Lart, John, 140. 
Laube, Heinrich, 241. 
Lessing, G. E., 210. 
Lope de Vega, 41. 
Lumley, Ralph, 140, 192. 
Lytton, Bulwer, 179, 241. 

Macdonough, Glen, 38. 
Mackay, Gayer, 272, 290. 
Malyon, E. J., 290. 
"Marlowe, Charles," 81. 
Marlowe, Christopher, 227. 
Matthison, Arthur, 290. 
Du Maurier, George, 171. 
McCarthy, Justin Huntley, 37. 
Meilhac, H., 199. 
Mendes, Catulle, 126. 
Merrick, Leonard, 15. 
Michel, Marc, 163. 
Moliere, 76, 223. 
Morton, Miss Martha, 239. 
Morton, Michael, 253. 
Morton, T., 98. 
Murray, D. Christie, 167. 
De Musset, Alfred, 185. 

Newton, Chance, 162. 
Otway, Thomas, 18. 

Parker, Gilbert, 116. 

Parker, Louis N. , 56, 184, 298, 

3M, 338. 

Paulton, Harry, 242. 
Philips, F. C., 15. 
Phillpotts, E., 6i. 
Pinero, A. W.j xxiii, xxiv, 52, 

96, 137, 183, 263. 
Porto Riche, , 242. 
Powers, Francis, 311. 

Raleigh, Cecil, 266. 

Reade, Charles, 241. 
Robertson, T. W., 97, 168, 182, 

"Rosmer, Ernest," 285. 

Sardou, Victorien, 106, 133, 

218, 242. 
Schiller, 210. 
Schontan, F. von, 207, 224, 


Scott, Mary Affleck, 254. 
Scribe, Eugene, xiii, 78, 107, 

Shakespeare, xv, 39, 51, 60, 66, 

85, 136, 144, 149, 151, 178, 

210, 227, 231, 240, 254, 314, 


Shaw, G. B., 184, 273. 
Sheridan, R. B., 98, 174. 
Shine, J. L., 167. 
Stevenson, Robert Louis, 319, 


Sudermann, H., 211, 243, 284. 
Sylvane, , in, 192. 

Taylor, Tom, 241. 
Thomas, Brandon, 242. 
Trevor, Leo, 113. 

Vaun, R., 283. 

Watson, Malcolm, 40. 
Wills, W. G., 17. 
Woodgate, Herbert, 12. 
Wycherley, William, 179. 

Young, Sir Charles, 272. 
Young, Miss Margaret, 338. 
Younge, William, 120. 




Abingdon, W. L., 17, 141. 

Adams, Blake, 61. 

Alexander, George, 105, 240, 


Anson, G. W., 290. 
Arthur, Paul, 37. 

Bancroft, George, 65. 
Bancroft, Sir Squire, xvi. 
Barnes, T. H., 6, 56, 120, 238, 


Barrett, Wilson, 30, 128, 144. 
Barrie, Ridgwood, 338. 
Barry, Spranger, 173. 
Beauchamp, John, 142,271, 345. 
Belmore, George, 6. 
Bellew, Kyrle, 271. 
Betterton, Thomas, 174. 
Beveridge, J. D., 251. 
Bishop, Alired, 6, 56, 9, 283. 
Black, G. F., 72, 156. 
Blakeley, W., 238. 
Blinn, Holbrook, 313. 
Booth, Edwin, 178. 
Bottomley, Master J., 266. 
Boucicault, Aubrey, 5, 37. 
Boucicault, Dion, 288. 
Bourchier, Arthur, 113, 192. 
Bremont, , 202, 224. 
Brookfield, Charles, 274, 290. 
Brough, Lionel, 330. 
Brou^h, Sydney, 36, 161, 299, 

315. 345- 

Broughton, A., 318. 
Buist, Scott. 345 
Burgess, Neil, 166. 

Calmette, 202, 204. 
Calvert, Louis, 70, 156. 
Carr, P. Comyns, 60. 
Carson, Murray, 299, 305. 
Charrington, Charles, 136, 143. 
Christians, 207, 208, 215, 226. 
Clarey, H. O., 116, 349. 

Clark, Holman, 166, 310. 
Clayton, John, 290. 
Cockburn, George, 17. 
Collette, Charles, 38. 
Conquest, George, 290. 
Cooke, G. F., 173. 
Cookson, S. A., 338. 
Courtes, 10. 

Dawson, Master Stewart, 6. 
Denny, W. H., in, 346. 
Didier, , 144. 
Douglas, Kenneth, 6, 90, 265. 
Dyall, Frank, 36. 

Elton, W., 163. 

El wood, Arthur, 36, 271, 345. 

Eppens, , 226. 

Esmond, H. V., 105, 308. 

Fitzgerald, Aubrey, 345. 

Forde, Athol, 142. 

Foss, G. R., 136. 

Fulton, Charles, 136, 141, 161, 


Le Gallo, , 163. 
Ganthony, Richard, 313. 
Garrick, David, 173. 
George, A E., 56. 
Gillette, William, 134. 
i Gillmore, P>ank, 139, 168. 
Gollan, Campbell, 134. 
Gordon, J. B., 168, 269. 
Gottschalk, Ferdinand, 289. 
Gould, Nutcombe, 36, 136, 154. 
Grahame, J. G. , 270. 
Greet, Ben, 36, 136. 
Grossmith, Geo., jun., 299. 
Grossmith, Weedon, 61, 142, 


Groves, Charles, xviii, 139. 
Guise, Wyndham, 349. 
Gurney, Edmund, 270. 


ACTORS Continued. 

Hare, Gilbert, 139, 168. 
Hare, John, xvi, xviii, 129, 139, 


Hargreaves, , 39. 
Harrison, Frederick, 253. 
Harvey, Martin, 57, 65, 123, 

142, 288. 

Harwood, Robb, 120. 
Hawtrey, Charles, 80, 265. 
Hendrie, Ernest, 80. 
Hodges, 318. 
Holmes-Gore, A., 161. 
Howard, Sydney, 4. 
Hunter, Harrison, 17. 

Irving, Sir Henry, xxiii, 109, 

174, 329- 

Irving, H. B., 51, 62, 105, 308. 
Irving, Laurence, 143, 148. 
Irwin, Edward, 128. 

Jacquinet, , II. 

Kaye, Fred, 37. 
Kean, Charles, 178. 
Kean, Edmund, 173. 
Kemble, Henry, 265, 350. 
Kemble, J. P., 173. 
Kendal, W. H.,xvi. 
Kendrick, Alired, 156. 
Kenyon, Leslie, 89, 283. 
Kerr, Frederick, 139, 168, 344. 
King, Murray, 116, 349. 
King, Thomas, 173. 
Kinghorne, Mark, 192, 310. 
Kramer, , 226. 

Lambart, Richard, 240. 
De Lange, H., 120, 269. 
Lauri, Charles, 125. 
Leigh, James, 192. 
Leno, Dan, 127. 
Lewis, Eric, 116, 349. 
Little, C. P., 253. 
Lonnen, E. J., 4, 163. 

Loraine, Robert, 269, 333. 
Lowne, C. M., 36, 269. 

Macdonald, J. W., 349. 
Mackintosh, A. R./6o. 
Macklin, Charles, 154, 173. 
Macready, W. C., 173, 175. 
Magnier, , 202. 
Manning, Ambrose, 145. 
Mathews, Charles, 180. 
Maude, Cyril, 166, 310. 
Maurice, Edmund, 57. 
McLeay, Franklyn, 30, 128, 


Metcalfe, Edward S., 167. 
Milward, Daw son, 269. 
Mollison, William, 332. 

Nertann, , 202. 
Neville, Henry, 269, 350. 
Nicholls, Harry, 130, 252. 
Nihl, , 207, 226. 

Oldershaw, L. R. F., 60. 
O'Neill, Edward, 17, 65. 
Outram, Leonard, 143. 

Palmer, John, 173. 
Paulton, Harry, 38. 
Phelps, Samuel, 176, 178. 
Playfair, Arthur, III, 253. 
Playford, E., 318. 
Powers, Francis, 313. 

Ramsey, Cecil, 163. 
Reeves-Smith, H., 61, 253. 
Righton, Edward, 270. 
Roberts, Arthur, 127, 345. 
Robertson, J. Forbes, 36, 254. 
Robson, E. M., 330. 
Ross, Herbert, 314. 
Rossi, Egidio, 8, 124. 
Royslon, Arthur, 105. 
Rubens, P. A., 59. 



ACTORS Continued. 

Saint-Germain, 5. 
Salvini, Tommaso, 49. 
Severin, , 126. 
Shelton, George, 61, 121, 308. 
Shine, J. L., 168. 
Standing, Herbert, 116, 283. 
Stephens, Yorke, 14. 
Stephenson, H., 290. 
Stevens, F., 59, 60. 
Stevens, F. Perceval, 330. 
Story, Fred, 163. 
Stuart, Cosmo, 265. 
Styan, Arthur, 120. 
Suirdale, Viscount, 60. 

Tayler, A. N., 59. 
Taylor, J. G., 90. 
Terriss, William, 130, 166, 252, 


Terry, Fred, 141, 239, 308. 
Thalberg, , 82, 89, 283. 
Thomas, Brandon, 254, 310. 
Thcrne, Fred, 115, 192. 
Thorpe, Courtenay, 17, 135, 

136, 142. 
Thursby, Charles, 271. 

Tree, Beerbohm, 119, 171, 227, 

3H, 329- 

Troode, Charles, 270. 
Tyler, F. H., 239, 310. 

Valentine, Sydney, 166, 310, 


Vane-Tempest, A., 283. 
Vernon, W. H., 123, 240, 308. 
Vezin, Hermann, 19, 65, 318, 


Waller, Lewis, 13, 119, 161, 

227, 330. 
Wallner, , 226. 
Waring, Herbert, 130, 135, 139. 
Weir, Charles, 39, 163. 
Welch, James, 5, 37, 38, 65, 

123, 143, 238, 239. 
Wheeler, Frank, 120. 
Wigan, Alfred, 180. 
Wilson, Joseph, 116, 349. 
Woodruff, Henry, 134. 
Woodward, H. M. M.> 59. 
Wyndham, Charles, xvi, 56, 

88, 276, 282. 
Wyatt, Frank, 273, 290. 


Abbott, Miss Maud, So. 
Abington, Mrs., 173. 
Achurch, Miss Janet, 61, 71, 

134, 156. 
Addison, Miss Carlotta, 6, 56, 

90, 308. 

Arthur, Miss Julia, 20, 109. 
Ashwell, Miss Lena, 239, 299, 


Baird, Miss Dorothea, 171, 344. 
Bancroft, Lady, xvi. 
Barton, Miss Dora, 123. 

Bateman, Miss, 299, 315. 
Bateman, Miss Isabel, 288. 
Bateman, Miss Jessie, 80. 
Beaudet, Mademoiselle Louise, 


Beere, Mrs. Bernard, 350. 
Benson, Miss Ruth, 313. 
Beringer, Miss Esme, 17, 275. 
Beringer, Miss Vera, 275. 
Bernhardt, Madame Sarah, 133, 

185, 188, 191, 199, 224. 
Branson, Miss Ada, 239. 
Brooke, Mrs. E. H., 37, 310. 
Brooke, Miss Sarah, 283. 
2 9 



ACTRESSES Continued. 

Broughton, Miss Phyllis, 192, 


Browne, Miss Pattie, 269. 
Buckley, Miss May, 313. 
Burt, Miss Aclie, 270. 

Caldwell, Miss Marianne, 123. 
Calhoun, Miss, 141. 
Calvert, Mrs. Charles, 80, 265. 
Campbell, Mrs. Patrick, 36, 153, 


Carlisle, Miss Sybil, 6. 
Gibber, Mrs., 173. 
Clements, Miss Miriam, 37. 
Clive, Mrs., 173. 
Cockerell, Miss Una, 338 
Collier, Miss Constance, 162, 


Crowe, Miss Sidney, 115. 
Cutler, Miss Kate, 116. 

Dairolles, Miss Adrienne, 166. 
Davis, Miss Fay, 104, 240, 308. 
Dee, Miss Ellas, 90. 
Drummond, Miss Dolores, 333. 
Duse, Eleonora, 64, no, 156. 

Emery, Miss Winifred, xxi, 

166, 310. 

Ely, Madame Germaine, II. 
Evelyn, Miss Maud, 136. 

Fairbrother, Miss Sydney, 310. 
Fairfax, Miss Lettice, 265. 
Fauvet, Miss Maria, 72. 
Featherstone, Miss Vane, 252. 
Ferrar, Miss Beatrice, 61. 
Filippi, Miss Gigia, 172. 
Filippi, Miss Rosina, 172. 
Fraser, Miss Winifred, 143. 
Freear, Miss Louie, 284. 

Gerard, Miss Florence, 38. 
Granville, Miss, 14, 161, 258. 

Hackney, Miss Mabel, 65, 240. 
lianbuiy, Miss Lily, 30, 136, 

155, 330. 

Hau is, Miss Dome, 330. 
Harvey, Miss May, 139, 168. 
Hope, Miss Ethel, 253. 
Hughes, Miss Annie, 5, 57. 

Ivor, Miss Frances, 145, 345. 

Jeffreys, Miss Ellis, 315. 
Jeffries, Miss Maud, 30, 128, 


Jocelyn, Miss Mary, 56, 90. 
Johnson, Miss Laura, 156. 
Jordan, Mrs., 173, 175. 

Keegan, Miss Mary, 65. 
Kendal, Mrs., xvi, xxi, 139. 
Kingston, Miss Gertrude, 109. 

Lamb, Miss Beatrice, 269. 
Lane, Miss Eleanor, 170. 
Langtry, Mrs., 66. 
Leclercq, Miss Rose, 105. 
Leth bridge, Miss Alice, 4. 
Lewis, Miss Mabel Terry, 60. 
Linthicum, Miss Lotta, 288. 
Litini, Mademoiselle, n, 90. 
Loftus, Miss Cissie, 288, 333. 
Loitus, Miss Kitty, 349. 
Luce, Miss Alethea, 313. 

Macklin, Miss, 155. 
"Mallet, Mademoiselle Felicia, 

May, Mademoiselle Jane, 143, 


Millard, Miss Evelyn, 227. 
Mills, Miss Kate, 6. 
Milton, Miss Maud, 20. 
Millward, Miss Jessie, 130, 252. 
Moody, Miss Louise, 142. 
Moore, Miss Decima, 120. 



ACTRESSES Continued. 

Moore, Miss Eva, 168, 265. 
Moore, Miss Mary, 56, 86, 89, 


Morns, Miss Marian, 60. 
Murray, Mrs. Cast on, 139. 

Neilson, Miss, 288. 
Neilson, Miss Julia, 104, 308. 
Nesville, Miss Juliette, 37. 
Nethersole, Miss Olga, 2. 
Nillson, Miss Carlotta, 345. 
Noble, Miss Grace, 271. 

Odilon, Madame, 207, 208, 211, 

217, 226. 

O'Neill, Miss, 173. 
Opp, Miss Julie, 240. 
Oram, Miss Mona, 139, 168. 

Paget, Miss Ffolliott, 143. 
Palfrey, Miss May, 192, 253. 
Phillips, MKs Kate, 143, 269. 
Pollock, Miss Emma, 167. 
Potter, Mrs. Brown, 270. 
Pounds, Miss Louie, 349. 
Pritchard, Mrs., 173. 

Rayner, Miss Ethel, 136. 
Rehan, Miss Ada, 157, 226. 
Rejane, Madame, 199, 204, 226. 
Richards, Miss Cicely, 17, 162. 
Ring, Miss Julie, 290. 
Robins, Miss Elizabeth, 51, 63, 

Romaine, Miss Claire, 162. 
Rorke, Miss Kate, xviii, 119, 
171, 338. 

Siddons, Mrs., 173, 175. 
Sitgreaves, Miss Beverley, 65 
Spong, Miss Hilda, 288 
Stanley, Miss Alma, 4 
Swan, Miss Hilda, 38. 
Steer, Miss Janette, 161. 
Sydney, Miss Ethel, 120. 

Terry, Miss Ellen, 19, 107, 109. 
Terry, Miss Marion, 86, 89, 


Terry, Miss Minnie, 330. 
Tree, Mrs. Beerbohm, 119, 123, 

139, 171, 227, 329, 330. 
Tyler, Miss Odette, 134. 

Valli, Miss Lulu, 39. 
Valli, Miss Valli, 6. 
Vanbrugh, Miss Irene, 109, 142. 
Vane, Miss Helen, 17, 271. 
Vaughan, Miss Susie, 139. 
Venne, Miss Lottie, 273. 
Verdi, Miss Lina, 288. 
Vestris, Madame, 180. 

Walsh, Miss Blanche, 134. 
Ward, Miss Genevieve, 123. 
Watson, Miss Henrietta, 345. 
Whitty, Miss May, 130. 
Wigan, Mrs. Alfred, 180. 
Wood, Mrs. John, 142, 269. 




Alexander, George, 184. 
Armbruster, Carl, 286. 
Austin, Alfred, 119. 

Bancroft, Sir Squire, and Lady, 


Beerbohm, Max, 8. 
Bukovics, Herr von, 210. 
Bunn, Alfred, 178. 
Bussell, Rev. F. W., 60. 

Calvert, Charles, 67. 
Calvert, Louis, 66. 
Carpenter, Alired, 4. 
Carr, Osmond, 162. 
Cecil, Arthur, 183. 
Clayton, John, 183. 
Collins, Arthur, 268. 
Corelli, Miss Marie, 12. 

Dolmetsch, Arnold, 318. 

Faguet, Emile, 225. 
Freytag, Gustav, 82. 

Greet, Ben, 136, 151. 

Hann, , 30. 
Hare, John, 183, 184. 
Hemsley, , 270. 
Humperdinck, E., 288. 

Irving, Sir Henry, xv, 105, 
152, 179. 

Kadelburg, Henry, 208. 

Kean, Charles, 179. 
Kendal, Mr. and Mrs., 183. 
Knight, Joseph, 18. 

Lewes, George Henry, 189, 

Macpherson, Miss Louise, 318. 
Macready, W. C., 177. 
Maeterlinck, Maurice, 90. 
Matthews, Professor Brander, 


Meredith, George, 72. 
Murray, Professor Gilbert, 85. 

Nugent, Claud, 272. 
O'Connor, T. P., xxiv. 
Poel, William, 315. 
Ryan, , 30. 

Saintsbury, Professor, 252. 
Sarcey, Francisque, xviii. 
Slaughter, Walter, 115, 345, 


Sutro, Alfred, 92. 
Swinburne, Algernon, 235. 
Symons, Arthur, 240. 

Telbin, , 30. 

Tree, Beerbohm, 116. 126, 184. 

Walkley, A. B., 337. 
Wyndham, Charles, 184. 






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CRITICISMS (hitherto uncollected) OF JOHN FORSTER 
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duction by WILLIAM ARCHER and ROBERT W. LOWE, and a 
Portrait of George Henry Lewes as Frontispiece. 

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Plays in the Scott Library. 

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LAMB. With an Introduction by RUDOLF DIRCKS. 
SCHILLER'S WILLIAM TELL. Translated, with an 

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an Introduction, Appendix, and Notes, by MAJOR-GENERAL 



and Edited, with an Introduction, by S. L. GWYNN. 

Russian Comedy. By NIKOLAI V. GOGOL. Translated from the 
original, by ARTHUR A. SYKES. 

AND THE SIGHTLESS. Translated, with an Introduction, 

LESSING'S NATHAN THE WISE. Translated, with 
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LATION), with some of the Minor Poems. Edited, with an 
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ductory Note by FRANK RINDER. 

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